THE 


LITTLE    KINGDOM    OF    HOME     ^ 


i>-j?/K 


f. 


A 


THE 

LITTLE  KINGDOM 
OF  HOME 


BY 


MARGARET    E.    SANGSTER 


NEW    YORK 
J.     F.    TAYLOR    &    COMPANY 


J 


1  '^.^/IQRd 


FOREWORD 


This  book  Is  not  for  the  reference  library.  It 
is  by  no  means  encyclopaedic,  and  it  has  not  been 
written  with  the  view  of  imparting  information. 
As  I  have  thought  of  the  little  kingdom  of  home, 
and  its  ethical  bearings,  its  relation  to  other 
homes,  to  society  and  the  nation,  I  have  had  a 
vision  and  a  dream  of  its  significance  and  its 
possibilities.  Woman's  province,  she  cannot  reign 
in  it  alone.  Man  and  woman  must  unite  in  the 
true  home.  Every  home,  however  unobtrusive, 
has  its  motive,  its  inspiration,  and  its  inevitable 
effect  on  contiguous  homes.  No  later  institution 
has  supplanted  the  family.  From  it  all  other 
human  organizations  take  their  rise,  as  flow( 
from  seed,  as  stream  from  source.  On  the  intei 
rity  of  the  family,  and  the  conservatism  of 
home,  depend  the  stability  of  our  republic.  Tj 
flag  we  love  waves  to-day  in  the  Far  East.  S( 
of  our  homes  have  carried  it  thither.  Our  wealtl 
grows  greater  every  year.  SoagJ^k^air  homesj 
carry  our  commerce  around  the^lSuKSEafen 

[v!i] 


.new  countries,  manage  our  mines,  build  our  rail- 
roads. Our  sons  are  the  nation's  hope.  Our 
daughters  are  as  corner-stones,  polished  after  the 
similitude  of  palaces.  Education  is  giving  us  a 
race  of  splendid  women,  fit  to  be  the  mothers  of 
splendid  men.  But  education  is  worthless,  except 
as  it  sliall  fit  both  men  and  women  for  the  quiet 
life  in  the  home,  as  well  as  for  the  life  lived  in 
the  open,  and  before  the  world. 

My  wish  is  that  this  little  book  may  everywhere 
carry  a  message  of  peace  and  good-will,  of  uplift, 
cheer,  and  courage  to  the  home-makers  of  Amer- 
ica, whom  may  God  bless.  And  so  I  send  it  forth, 
"  East  or  West,  home  is  best."  God  keep  the 
little  kingdom  of  home. 

Margaret  E.  Sangster. 


[viil] 


PAGE 

I.     Bride  and  Groom.    The  wedding.    Found- 
ing   a    new    home.     Facing    the    future. 
Comradeship       ......       15 

II.  Relations-in-Law.  Where  misunderstand- 
ing may  arise.  Gentle  breeding  and  its 
demands     .......       31 

III.  Where  Shall  the  Home  Be?    In  board- 

ing-house,  or  in  a  real  home?      How  to 
determine  this  question  and  similar  ones    . 

IV.  How  Shall  THE  Home  Be  Furnished?   A 

plea  for  comfort   and  simplicity,  and  for 
the  real  things  that  have  real  uses 
V.     The  Coming  OF  Children.    The  coronation 
of  marriage.     When  joy-bells  ring.     The 
mother's  happy  hour  .... 

VI.  The  Training  of  Children.  Funda- 
mental principles  most  important.  Chil- 
dren should  be  trained  in  obedience,  truth, 
and  honor.  The  home  stamps  them  for  life 
VII.  Bricks  without  Straw.  Financial  policy 
of  the  home.  Tlie  wife's  right  to  share 
the  income.  A  common  cause  of  trouble  ; 
unwise  domestic  financiering 
VIII.  The  Earnings  of  Married  Women.  Pres- 
ent condition  of  the  labor  market.  Desire 
of  women  to  earn 


49 


53 


77 


IX 


X. 


XI. 


reasons  against  it  as  hampering  the  home- 
maker         ....... 

High  Lights  of  Happiness.    Mutual  confi- 
dence.   Entire  sympathy.    A  common  aim. 
Going  on  together.     Never  a  quarrel  that 
is  not  at  once  made  up       ...         . 

The    Young    People.     Their    rights    and 
privileges.      The    good    times    they  have. 
Sons  and  daughters    ..... 

Red-Letter  Days.  Happy  anniversaries. 
Mile-stones  vphere  we  thank  God  and  take 
courage.     Merry   Ckristmas,   Happy  New 

Tear 

The  Sinister  Influence  of  Worry.    Evil 

effects  of  overanxiety.     Futility  of  worry. 

Away  with  foolish  melancholy   . 

The   H»use    of    Feasting.     Home   hospi- 

ty.     Guests   and  what  they  bring  us. 

Iferent  sorts  of  entertainment 

House  of  Mourning.    The  dark  angel 

'the  door.     Sorrow.    Lonely  days.    Fu- 

arrangements.     Grief's  meaning  and 

SpnfH  _  f     •  *  ■  •  •  •  • 

Quej^ncIf    One's    Own    Kitchen.     Just 

hopaely  housework.     Tlie  independence  of 

knowing  how  to   do  it.     The  comfort  of 

it  by  one's  self        .... 

ih  AND  IfoiLERS.     About  the 

cess.     Wrong   concep- 

^lem  not  yet  solved. 


141 


157 


173 


189 


205 


221 


237 


Need   of    concession 

common  sense    ...... 

XVII.     The  Nobility  of  Service.     Have  we  no 
occasion  to  reconstruct  our  ideas  ?  Are  we 
right  in  regarding  service  as  degrading  ? 
XVIII.     Home    and    Charity.     The  relation   be- 
tween home  and  outside  beneficence 
XIX.     Home  and  the  Flag.     Some  present-day 
problems,  and  the  relation  of  the  home 
to  patriotism   ...... 

XX.  The  Ideal  Home  for  a  Child.  Essen- 
tials and  non-essentials.  The  nest.  The 
brooding  of  the  mother's  wing 
XXI.  Early  Religious  Teaching.  When 
should  it  begin?  "What  should  we  teach? 
Our  children  God's  children  . 
XXII.  The  Library.  The  place  of  books  in  the 
home.  Their  purchase  and  housing. 
The  good  they  do.  Their  permanent 
value.      .......     337 

XXIII.  Two  Friends  of  the  Family.    Physician 

and  nurse.     Their  intimate  and  special 
connection  with  the  home 

XXIV.  The  Fine  Armor  of  Courtesy.     Polite- 

ness as  a  defense  against  ill-temper  and 
an  armor  of  proof  in  social  intercourse  . 
XXV.  A  Little  Music  Now  and  Then.  Home 
minstrelsy.  Something  to  betjiadd  for  the 
amateur  . 
XXVI.    Second  Marriage.    Not  tinged  witli  ear^ 

xi 


2G7 


27 !» 


295 


309 


323 


XXVII. 


XXVIII. 


439 


XXIX. 


XXX. 


liest  romance  but  often  successful. 
Hearts  may  have  a  second  spring.  The 
stepmother  ......     401 

The  Place  of  the  Spinster.  Her 
niche  one  that  she  fills  acceptably.  No 
reproach  upon  single  women.  Her 
value  in  the  home  and  in  society       .     423 

Prodigal  Sons.  The  child  who  goes 
astray.  The  temptations  that  most 
easily  assail  the  weak.  What  should 
be  the  family  attitude  toward  the 
erring  one    ...... 

Of  Broken  Homes.  Divorce  and  its 
menace  to  the  stability  and  security  of 
the  republic.  Its  calamitous  effect  on 
children.  Urgent  reasons  against  its 
toleration  and  frequency     .         .         .451 

The  Old  Folk  at  Home.  Grand- 
mother's home  the  children's  earthly 
Paradise.  Spending  vacations  in  the 
home.  Propriety  of  old  folk  retain- 
ing their  home  intact.  How  to  treat 
the  old.     Home  and  Heaven        .        .    463 

L'Envoi 481 


xit 


Tie  ^^^ 

Little  Kingdom  of  Home 


CHAPTER   I. 
Bride  and  Groom 

IT  is  a  familiar  pageant,  that  fair  procession 
which  passes  between  pews  thronged  with 
sympathizing  and  adoring   friends,   up   the 
aisle  to  the  chancel  rail,  down  the  aisle  again  to 
the  wide  world  beyond  the  church  doors.     The 
solemn    sweetness    of   the    wedding   march,    the 
reverential  cadences  of  the  minister's  voice,  the 
terse  brevity  of  the  marriage  ceremony,  the  beauty 
of  the  bride,  the  pride  of  the  groom,  the  pleasurer^ 
and  the  splendor  of  it  all,  its  innocent  pomps  ar 
vanities,    the    gaiety    of    the   occasion,    several 
contribute  to  form  one  of  the  most  impress! 
spectacles  of  society.    Wherever  the  wedding 
take  place,  with  simple  or  elaborate  ritual,  wi 
accessories   of   costly    display,    orjwjth   absolute 
limit  of  expense  to  actual  necesj 

[15] 


The  Little  Kingdom  of  Home 


.own  home  where  she  has  grown  to  womanhood, 
at  the  minister's  house  with  a  witness  or  two,  in 
the  grand  cathedral,  or  in  the  village  chapel,  the 
two  contracting  parties  are  the  centre  of  obser- 
vation. If  the  gazer's  admiration  is  focussed 
on  the  maiden  in  her  white  garments  and  her 
shadowing  veil,  and  if  the  whisper  of  interest 
be  rather  for  her  than  for  him  who  receives  her 
as  the  prize  for  which  he  has  longed  and  waited, 
that  is  as  it  should  be.  The  wedding-day  is  the 
day  of  girlhood's  coronation.  The  bride  leaves 
behind  her  the  morning  land  of  school  and  play, 
the  period  of  tutelage,  the  shelter  of  parental 
care,  and  enters,  of  her  own  accord,  in  love's 
sweetest  surrender,  into  a  bondage  which,  being 
love's,  is  by  a  strange  paradox  a  dignified  and 
noble  emancipation.  No  longer  under  authority, 
she  slips  her  hand  in  complete  equality  into  the 
of  her  husband,  and  they  two,  no  longer 

but  one,  in  the  independence  which  is  born 

ipendence,  mutual  and  serviceable,  begin  a 

life. 

le  groom  is  not  overlooked,  though,  on  the 

lis  role  is  that  of  courtier  nearest 

>men  observe  him  critically,  won- 

[i6] 


dering,  hoping,  prophesying  what  sort  of  husband/j 
he  will  be.  Men,  married  and  single  alike,  give 
him  their  congratulations,  silent  or  worded;  he 
seems  to  them  a  lucky  fellow  to  have  won  so 
charming  a  mate.  A  groom  at  once  modest, 
manly,  and  happy,  showing  in  countenance  and 
manner  that  he  is  glad  and  grateful,  boastful- 
ness  of  the  victor  toned  with  an  underlying 
feeling  of  responsibility,  a  groom  whose  air  is 
at  once  deferential  and  protecting,  appeals  to 
the  friendly  group  in  church  and  at  the  recep- 
tion. He  carries  their  best  wishes  with  him. 
I  never  attend  a  wedding  without  a  new  real- 
ization of  its  deep  meaning,  its  immense  possi- 
bilities for  good  or  ill.  I  do  not  wonder  that 
fathers  and  mothers,  on  both  sides,  have  usually 
a  little  struggle  to  be  cheerful,  when  their 
children  so  bravely  set  forth  on  the  road,  th 
trodden  by  comrades,  will  seem  short  thoirg- 
it  lead  from  youth  to  gray  hairs;  that,  trodden 
by  the  uncongenial,  will  be  but  a  tedious  prispp,; 
march  with  dragging  ball  and  chain.  The  bri 
mother  is  living  over  again  her  far-off  day//6f 
bliss,  and  she  knows,  though  she  may  havo6Rad 
a  well-nigh  unclouded  e 


'>S 


^ 


'"%■ 


The  Little  Kmgdoiu  of  Home 


^«^^Ler  will  not  all  at  once  find  the  rose  of  Eden/ 
im/  nor  all  at  once,  nor  ever,  find  life  without  a  shade 
or  a  thorn.  A  great  tenderness  floods  her  soul 
as  she  sits  in  the  pew  and  hears  the  words  that 
give  her  darling  to  the  watch  and  ward  of  an- 
other. The  mother  of  the  groom,  on  her  part, 
is  often  the  victim  of  apprehension.  She  knows 
her  son,  she  has  anticipated  his  every  want,  from 
the  day  of  kilts  and  curls  to  this  day  that  takes 
him  from  her.     As  the  old  couplet  runs : 


Tour  son's  your  son  till  he  marries  a  wife, 

four  daughter's  your  daughter  all  the  days  of  her  life." 

the  groom  fights  down  a  little 
f  which  she  is  ashamed,  as  she  ad- 
he  cannot  now  be  first  with  her  son, 
ife  will  hereafter  reign   beside  him, 
;Omes  a  dowager. 

oom,   fortunately,   in  the  preoc- 

d  absQjpgtionof  their  peculiar  delight 

ssing  one  an<5t1ifer,  are  supremely  indif- 

^nt  of  the  mingjp^  fe^Jings  of  their  families. 

-Their  felicity  as  they^  start  on  the  wedding-jour- 

ey  is  untouched  l^^^^]:j^nchecked  by  caution, 


v^ 


^f^r 
[i8] 


Bride  and  Groom 


unbroken  by  questioning  thought.  The  weeks^^' 
and  months  of  courtship  have  made  them,  they'"^' 
fancy,  fully  acquainted  with  one  another,  and 
the  dominant  purpose  of  each  is  to  give  the 
other  joy.  Setting  out  with  a  capital  of  health, 
confidence,  hope,  youth,  and  true  love,  they 
have  no  dread  of  the  future,  and  their  present 
shines  in  radiance,  like  nothing  they  will  ever 
see  again  on  earth.  The  torch  of  such  love  as 
theirs  was  kindled  in  heaven. 

They  are  about  to  begin  the  most  important 
and  far-reaching  work  given  by  God  to  human- 
ity.    Theirs  it  will  be  to  found  a  family,  and  to 
build  a  home.     Themselves  the  product  of  fami- 
lies   founded    before    them,    heredity,    training, 
education,   environment,   and   social   atmosphere 
have   made   them    what    they    are.      The    home 
they    make    will    partake    of    much    they    have^.,;^ 
learned  and  felt  in  their  past  lives,  but  it  wj 
be    essentially    different,    individual,    and    ne^ 
Every  new   family  has   its   own   characteristi^l 
just  as  every  child  w^ho  comes  into  the  wortdf 
is  stamped  with  its  own  personality,  though  ^W;'^ 4? 
line  and  feature  it  may  show  a  blending,  or  ^j 
repetition  of  ancestral  lineaments:..Si^^iJistinctiv,i 


[■9] 


fiiytsA 


(ti<i 


<^^ 


m 


..$x 


T/ie  Little  Kingdom  of  Home 


shapes  and  mouldings.  This  year's  daisy  and 
this  year's  rose  are  precise  reproductions  of  the 
rose  and  the  daisy  of  a  bygone  summer;  in 
tint,  in  fringe,  in  petal,  in  poise,  in  fragrance,  in 
grace,  the  flower  of  to-day  is  the  flower  of  yes- 
terday, but  it  is  not  so  with  the  flowering  of 
the  race.  Type  remains,  but  it  is  not  fixed  in 
a  cast-iron  similarity.  Little  changes,  little 
improvements,  or  little  retrogressions  and  de- 
generacies, differentiate  the  human  type  in  the 
progress  of  the  years,  and  therefore  every  home, 
however  like  it  may  be  to  the  homes  that  have 
preceded  it,  takes  on  its  own  look,  and  while, 
to  some  extent,  it  is  a  development  of  other 
households,  it  is  largely  a  creation,  too. 

In  order  to  found  a  home,  what  preparation 

have  the   young  people   made?     The   man   has 

saved  a  little  money,  the  bride  has  bought  her 

of  linen ;    they  count  their  wedding-pres- 

—  lamps,   rugs,  pictures,  silver,  books,  the 

mental    and    useful    gifts    of    kindred    and 

^  nds,  —  and  commence  the  furnishing  of  the 

'p^se.     This   is  only  the   husk.      Externals   are 

but  the  lamp  is   valueless   when 

it  do  not  reveal  a  living  flame. 

[20] 


A  cold  hearth  is  never  inviting,  it  is  when  the 
firelight  leaps  and  sparkles  that  the  hearth  glows 
like  a  tropical  summer.  It  is  man's  privilege 
to  furnish  oil  for  the  lamp  and  wood  for  the 
fire,  woman's  prerogative  to  be  priestess  of  the 
lamp  and  the  hearth,  lighting  both,  even  as  her 
love  makes  the  home  a  star  that  beams  upon 
the  road  leading  to  her  door,  with  friendly  and 
beckoning  rays. 

Husband  and  wife  should  be,  with  a  view 
to  reciprocity  of  devotion  and  spontaneous  sym- 
pathy, on  the  same  plane  as  to  age.  It  is  better 
that  both  should  be  young,  sharing  the  natural 
ardor  of  youth  in  aims  and  endeavors,  caring 
for  similar  pleasures,  and  having  tastes  and 
desires  in  common.  There  are,  no  doubt,  happy 
and  successful  unions  where  there  is  disparity 
of  age,  but  these  are  exceptional,  and  exceptio 
are  said  to  prove  the  rule,  A  husband,  maff 
years  his  wife's  senior,  may  pet  and  indulge  h 
A  wife,  many  years  her  husband's  senior, 
mother  and  brood  over  him,  but  there  is  som 
thing  pitiful  about  a  union  where  so  plainly,/to 
those  who  have  ears  to 


moaning  against  the  bar  of  the  tide  that  will  soon 
snatch  one  from  the  other. 

A  very  few  years  of  difference  on  either  side 
can  matter  little.  Some  people  are  old,  some 
young  for  their  years,  and  birthdays  are  not, 
invariably,  high-water  marks  of  wisdom,  or  low- 
water  marks  of  folly.  Yet  the  onlooker's  in- 
stinct is  almost  unerringly  right,  and  one  can- 
not but  feel  a  shock  when  May  weds  December, 
January  throws  a  chilly  arm  around  the 
|oom  of  June. 

^  Setting  out   on  the   common   road   to   found 

new  home,  bride  and  groom  should  be  young 

ier/-5^ng  enough  for  the  trials  of  the  way 

^and  conquered,  for  the  makeshifts  of 

small  things  to  be  accepted  as  part 

ly's   romance,    for   the   burdens   to   be 

and    the    inevitable    disappoint- 

5oftened    by    fun    and    laughter. 


oes  not  know  when  it 

ttempts  the  most  dif- 

s  nothing  impossible, 

Q^  conquerors  of  the  ages 

t  day  does  not  favor 


marriage  at  the  turning-point  of  immaturity, 
and  this  is  fortunate.  In  the  early  days  of  the 
republic,  and  in  days  a  century  ago,  when  Jane 
Austen  drew  her  wonderful  pictures  of  English 
girlhood,  eighteen  was  the  average  age  of  the 
bride,  and  sixteen  often  saw  her  married  and 
settled.  Twenty-five  was  then  regarded  as  the 
barren  shore  of  spinsterhood,  thirty  was  middle- 
aged,  and  forty  was  antique.  The  young  hus- 
band was  little  older  than  the  wife,  but  his 
tougher  sinews  and  more  robust  frame,  as  well 
as  his  open-air  life,  enabled  him  to  withstand 
life's  wear  and  tear  and  hardship  better  than  did 
the  fragile  constitution  of  his  bride.  In  the 
graveyard  of  the  Plymouth  Colony,  and  in  many 
a  village  cemetery  where  "  the  rude  forefathers 
of  the  hamlet  sleep,"  one  sees  the  pathetic  record 
of  the  early  death  of  the  poor  girl-wife,  and 
her  successors  swiftly  wedded,  to  the  fourth 
fifth  partner.  It  is  well  for  us,  and  for  the  c 
munity,  that  they  who  now  found  families 
beyond  the  dawn  of  adolescence,  and  have  re^ 
entered  on  the  firmer  levels  of  manhood  a.h 
womanhood.  Young,  in  the  ,  fer^&'^d  fresh^ 
ness  of  the  twenties,  past  the  c 

[23] 


[^mreens,  the  man  and  the  woman  approximating 
each  other  in  age,  they  have  a  fair  show  at  the 
start. 

Since   the  ideal   quahfication   for  happy  mar- 
riage  is   comradeship,   bride   and   groom   should 
be   of   similar   education   and   of   suitable   social 
traditions,  so  that  the  background  of  their  past 
may  not  unfit  them  for  harmonious  union.     Oc- 
casionally,  a  silly  girl   elopes   with  her   father's 
coachman,  or  a  foolish  youth  marries  a  kitchen- 
maid.     These  marriages  are  foredoomed  to  fail- 
ure, because  they  afford  no  conditions  of  com- 
radeship.    The  coachman  and  the  kitchen-maid 
may   be   very   worthy   persons,    and    it    is    quite 
conceivable    that    either,    or    both,    in    favorable 
circumstances,    or    through    native    powers    and 
persevering  study,   may  become   well   fitted    for 
\yider    station    of    usefulness.      Their    present 
n  lacks  no  element  of  respectability,   and 
€   has   a   right  to   look   down    as    from    a 
^r^  supL-rifjr    height    on    any    honest    breadwinner. 
-^'       This  is  the  point,  that  an  illiterate  though  forceful 
nic'in,  perfec^W-ri^quipped  for  the  functions  of  the 
^Xt^ol^'^^^^^^^^^0j^o^,.O3id,  is  not  precisely  adapted  to 
the-^iOitkrieCT.    which    marriage    exacts,    with    a 

C^4] 


^oung  woman  of  gentle  birth  and  breeding,  who 
has  been  elegantly  clothed,  carefully  taught, 
and  scrupulously  drilled  in  the  conventionalities. 
Nor  is  the  college-trained  son  of  a  great  house, 
on  whom  wealth  has  lavished  opportunity  from 
his  cradle,  the  appropriate  husband  af  a  young 
woman  who  does  not  know  Tennyson  or  Brown- 
ing or  Shakespeare  from  the  author  of  the  latest 
dime  novel,  who  possibly  does  not  even  read 
a  dime  novel,  who  may  not  know  how  to  write 
her  name.  The  unequal  marriage  may  not  be 
a  crime,  but  it  is  an  unspeakable  blunder.  T 
have  never  seen  a  happy  marriage  where  hus- 
band and  wife  were  conspicuously  set  apart  from 
one  another  by  the  gulf  that  separates  ignorance 
from  culture,  and  refinement  from  coarseness. 
That  King  Cophetua  does  now  and  then  wed 
the  beggar-maid,  and  lift  her  to  the  throne,  ma] 
be  true,  but  one  seldom  finds  such  an  idyl  out 
side  of  poetry  and  fairy-lore.  Like  should  wee 
like.  Robert  Browning  was  the  heaven-meai 
comrade  of  Elizabeth  Barrett,  Fanny  Osborne^ 
of  Robert  Louis  Stevenson,  Jane  Welch,  thouj 
ten  thousand  people  tlij^k  the  cQntrar3^^^^i 
Thomas  Carlyle.     These 


in  literature  and  in  the  obscurity  tJiat  is  nappier" 
for  being  never  chronicled,  have  had  the  joy 
of  being  comrades,  in  sickness  and  in  health, 
in  riches  and  in  poverty,  in  every  variety  of 
good  and  of  ill-fortune,  companions  and  part- 
ners and  friends.  Bride  and  groom  must  be 
friends,  at  the  first,  and  all  the  way,  or  they 
will  not  help  one  another,  or  make  a  happy  home. 
Whether  educated  in  separate  schools,  or  in 
)se  liberal  institutions  which  open  their  doors 
both  sexes,  matters  very  little,  the  main  thing 
that  two  people  who  must  spend  their  lives 
jether,  should  have  a  fund  of  association  in 
)mmon^-4^ow  the  same  books,  have  the  same 
mor^s-Athe  same  mental  discipline,  and  the 
;kTne  sprwfgs  of  motive.  Thus  armed,  the  world- 
not  daunt  them.  Thus  provisioned, 
will  never  be  scanty, 
life's  road,  a  married  pair  should 
experiment  of  having 
bject  is  so  much  bit- 
no  topic  do  people 
relentlessly  clash  as 
Therefore,  if  creeds 
and   woman   would 


best  not  marry.     Love  has  been  strong  enough" 
to  enable  two  who  worshipped  in  different  fanes, 
and  expressed  their  faith  in  different  forms,  to 
dwell  together  in  peace,  but  with  singularly  few 
exceptions,  the  price  has  been  paid  in  the  spirit- 
ual decadence  or  spiritual  suicide  of  one  or  the 
other.     Bride  and  groom  would  far  better  yield 
in  non-essentials  and  unite  in  essentials,  for  the 
sake  of  the  tranquil   home  they   hope  to  have, 
or  else  they  would  better  not  pledge  a  mutual 
love  and  faith.    A  devout  Roman  Catholic  never 
feels  sure  that  a  Protestant  partner  will  not  be 
everlastingly  lost.     A  devout  Protestant  always 
has  some  lurking  suspicion  and  dormant  dislike 
of  the  authority  of  the  church  and  the  priest- 
hood.     Protestant  would   far  better  mate   with 
Protestant,  and  Romanist  with  Romanist.     Jew^*^^^ 
and  Gentile  may  have  no  hostility;    not  even   '  "** 
shred  of  prejudice  may  linger  to  disturb  the 
perfect  and  reciprocal   amity,  but  they  are 
wise  in  marrying.     In  beginning  a  home  no  sps 
or  chance  should  be  left  for  possible  discord;" 
irritating  cause  for  — 

"  The  little  rift  within  the  lute 
That  by  and  by  will  make  the 

[27] 


A  sense  of  humor  is  most  needful  in  the  equip- 
ment of  the  happily  married.  To  quickly  per- 
ceive the  fun  of  a  situation,  to  ease  a  difficulty 
by  a  jest,  to  smile  at  a  mistake,  to  brighten  a 
dull  hour  by  a  bit  of  drollery,  is  to  lose  much 
of  the  sadness  and  gain  much  of  the  gladness 
of  life.  The  literal,  plodding,  worrying,  misan- 
thropical nature  that  has  no  sense  of  humor  is 
a  wet  blanket  in  society,  and  a  handicap  in  the 
home.  Bride  and  groom  need  not  anticipate 
unruffled  smoothness  during  the  first  twelve 
months.  The  first  year  in  a  novel  and  absorbing 
relationship,  in  an  intimacy  far  closer  than  any 
other,  must  be  a  year  of  adjustment,  to  some 
extent  a  year  of  disillusionment.  John  will  not 
prove  the  perfect  being,  uniformly  chivalrous, 
gallant,  and  knightly  that  Edith  fancied  him. 
Edith  will  not  always  be  the  angelic  creature, 
e,  even-tempered,  serene,  fair-minded,  that 
imagined  her.  Both  will  turn  out  to  be 
human.  But  if  both  be  above  deceits  and 
fices,  if  both  be  noble  and  simple  and  straight- 
ard^.bpjh.^^will  show  themselves  lovable,  and 
ye  is  the  fulfilling  of  the  law. 
e  may  be,  —  now  and  then  a  mis- 

[28] 


understanding,  now  and  then  a  transient  pang,  but 
for  the  newly  wedded,  if  they  set  the  right  value 
on  their  great  opportunity,  there  should  never 
be  a  quarrel.  Avoid  the  first  quarrel,  and  there 
will  never  be  a  second.  Differences  of  opinion 
may  arise,  but  they  may  be  settled  in  a  calm 
temper,  without  heated  argument.  If  hasty 
words  are  spoken,  let  the  aggressor  apologize, 
and,  whatever  else  may  happen,  let  no  day  end 
in  estrangement.  Seek  the  pillow  in  peace.  The 
good-night  should  be  kind,  the  spirit  of  concili- 
ation hover  over  the  house  when  the  darkness 
wraps  it  and  the  stars  are  on  guard  in  the  sky. 
Years  ago,  I  wrote  a  bit  of  verse,  which  has 
been  taken  since  by  many  a  bride  as  her  daily 
sermon,  and  I  slip  it  in  here,  not  for  the  poetry, 
but  for  the  lesson. 


If  I  had  known  in  the  morning 

How  wearily  all  the  day 

The  words  unkind,  would  trouble  my  mind, 

I  said  when  you  went  away, 

I  had  been  more  careful,  darling, 

Nor  given  you  needless  pain  ; 

But  we  vex  our  own  with  look  and  tone 

We  misfht  never  take  ba 


For  though  in  the  quiet  evening 

You  should  give  me  the  kiss  of  peace, 

Yet  it  well  might  be  that  never  for  me 

The  pain  of  the  heart  should  cease. 

How  many  go  forth  at  morning 

Who  never  come  home  at  night, 

And  hearts  have  broken,  for  harsh  words  spoken 

That  sorrow  can  ne'er  set  right. 


We  have  careful  thought  for  the  stranger 
And  smiles  for  the  sometime  guest, 
But,  oft  for  our  own,  the  bitter  tone, 
Though  we  love  our  own  the  best. 
Ah,  lip  with  the  curve  impatient. 
Ah,  brow  with  the  look  of  scorn, 
'Twere  a  cruel  fate  were  the  night  too  late 
To  undo  the  work  of  morn. 


[30] 


[3'1 


I'T'HEY  love  most  truly  who  have  loved  lon^ 

est.     Misunderstanding  is   sometimes  onl^^ 

love's  seamy  side. 


[32] 


Relations  -  in  -  Law 


YOUNG  people  are  fortunate  if  they  may 
spend  the  early  months  of  marriage  by 
themselves.    The  presence  of  a  third  per- 
son in  the  home  is  not  desirable.    Relations-in-law 
are  proverbially  difficult  to  get  on  with,  for  the 
reason   that,    however   admirable   and    excellent 
their   qualities,    they   are   often    disposed   to   be 
critical,    and    sometimes    censorious.      Only   the 
most  compulsory  reasons  should  prevail  in  de- 
ciding a  husband  and  wife  to  begin  their  home 
life  under  the  roof  of  parents,  or  to  have  parents 
resident  with  them.     In  later  years,  when  they 
have  so  grown  together  as  to  be  one  in  heai^t\^,-^'| 
and  soul,  when  they  cannot  be  hurt  by  an 
sider's  point  of  view,   or  disturbed   by  sur 
agitations   which   do   not   touch   the   deep   t 
quillity  of  perfect  mutual  comprehension,   it  is 
not  an   indispensable  thing  that  they  be  alo^e. 
Blessed  be  grandparents  where  children  a|j^  as 
olive  plants  around  the  tabl^^ji^^L  just. ^f'#t^t, 

S] 


hen  the  home  is  in  its  formative  period,  when 
the  new  paths  are  being  broken,  when  routine 
is  not  estabhshed,  when  experiments  are  being 
tried,  when  the  wife  is  still  a  very  inexperienced 
housekeeper,  and  the  husband  a  very  inexperi- 
enced householder,  relations  should  be  visitors 
only,  and  not  parts  of  the  family. 

Many  a  slight  misunderstanding  that  a  kiss 
would  have  ended,  is  fanned  into  a  flame  by  the 
dicious  comment  or  unseasonable  sympathy 
ohn's  mother  or  Edith's.     Why  either  should 
L  partisan  is  among  the  every-day  puzzles  that 
not  likely  to  be  solved.    Far  be  it  from  me  to 
ftippant  condemnation  of  the  mother- 
ch  is  generally  as  sweepingly  unjust 
can  make  it,  since  no  one  can  have 
ke  than  a  mother  in  her  daughter's 
happiness.     But  mothers  are  human 
nd  their  very  love  renders  them 
uspicioijig^  and  may  make  them   un- 
with  a  newly  mar- 
nity  to  be  wounded 
itness  when  she  buys 
e  market,  or  has  to 
'ailure.     John's  self- 


•Esteem  can  endure  a  prick,  if  he  feels  that  his 
wife  has  good  cause  to  complain  of  some  trifling 
negligence,  if,  for  instance,  he  forget  to  take  off 
his  hat  every  time  he  ought,  or  if  he  walk  out  of 
a  room  before  her,  when  he  ought  to  have  held 
the  door  open  that  she  might  precede  him.  A 
smile,  a  word,  a  look,  from  some  one  sitting  by 
may  be  the  small  beginning  of  a  trouble  which 
will  cause  a  long  heartache. 

I  think  men  are  often  blind  to  a  state  of  feel- 
ing, which  women  instinctively  understand.  A 
loyal  and  loving  husband  is  so  sure  that  he  cares 
supremely  for  his  wife,  so  convinced  that  she  is 
the  ideal  woman  in  all  the  world,  that  he  thought- 
lessly omits  some  of  the  little  devoted  attentions 
that  he  constantly  paid  her  in  the  courting  days. 
He  permits  himself  to  speak  brusquely  because  he 
fears  he  will  lose  his  train,  or  because  something 
has  gone  wrong  in  his  business,  or  for  any  or 
of  a  dozen  reasons,  which  may  wound  a  sensitijs 
nature  to  the  quick,  wound  it  all  the  more  deej 
if  somebody  be  present  to  see  and  hear, 
mother's  impulse  is  to  excuse,  to  defend,  to  fighl 
for  a  son,  and  she  does  not,  as  y)^«^°>§t^xases  she^ 
ought,  range  herself  on  the  side** 

[35] 


The  Little  Kingdom  of  Home 


ci 


Fathers-in-law  are  on  the  whole  much  less  apt 
to  bring  clouds  to  the  home  sky  than  are  mothers- 
in-law.  Little  things  pass  unnoticed  by  unob- 
sen^ant  men.  They  take  no  heed  of  trifles.  To 
women  trifles  are  important. 

Of  course,  when  parents  are  aged  and  feeble, 
and  a  marriage  must  be  indefinitely  postponed 
unless  the  pair  shall  begin  their  life  in  the  home- 
stead, the  best  should  be  made  of  the  situation. 
In  many  cases,  the  outcome  is,  on  the  whole, 
agreeable.  In  many  others,  it  is  distinctly  and 
pitifully  the  reverse.  If  it  is  duty,  it  must  be 
accepted  and  borne  with.  "  Duty,  stern  daughter 
of  the  voice  of  God,"  must  be  obeyed  at  any  cost. 
But  let  it  be  duty  clearly  defined,  not  mistaken 
sentiment. 

Marriage  is  the  union  of  two  individuals,  and 

the  ideal  family  starts  with  two  individuals  who 

her  begin  their  home.    Take  a  single  exam- 

A  young  woman  brought  up  in  a  city,  with 

knowledge  of  conditions  on  a  farm,  and  no 

uaintance  with  the  drudgery  that  must  be  ac- 

d  by  women   who   do  their  own   work   in 

^(iroU'R^j^^a^^^and  in  houses  that  have  no  modern 

coiwebi^iw^/RO  hot  and  cold  water  on  tap,  no 

[36] 


gas  or  electricity,  no  furnace  heat,  none  of  the^^^ 
apparatus    for    domestic    management    that    are 
commonly  found  in  the  houses  of  rich  and  poor 
in  town.     This  girl,  spending  a  summer  vacation 
in  the  hills,  meets  a  manly  young  fellow,  who 
falls  in  love  with  her.     She  returns  his  love.     In 
time,  after  much  correspondence  and  one  or  two 
brief  visits,  they  become  engaged,  and  are  duly 
married.     The  young  farmer  is  an  only  son,  and 
the  farm  is  a  good  property.     In  the  ample  old 
house,  so  airy  and  cool  in  summer,  so  draughty 
and  chill  in  winter,  live  the  parents,  who  have 
spent  forty  years  under  that  rooftree,  live  also 
two  or  three  maiden  sisters,  who  have  no  other 
home.     Rooms  are  fitted  up  for  the  bride,  her 
welcome  is  cordial,  and  the  women  of  the  family 
receive  her  into  their  circle  with  motherly  and 
sisterly   kindness.      It   does   not  take   very  lon| 
to  demonstrate  the  fact  that  the  city  girl  canH 
fit  smoothly  into  the  new  niche.    If  she  holds  her- 
self aloof,  keeps  to  her  own  apartment,  and  offi^^^^ 
no   assistance   in   the  household   work,   she   se^^^^' 
plainly  that  she  is  an  interloper,  who  adds  to  me 
family    burdens    instead    of    diminishinsf    jfcfeeir 
weight.    If  she  timidly 


The  Little  Kingdom  of  Home 


<5 


in  either  case  her  lack  of  knowledge  awakens 
surprise,  and  her  awkwardness  elicits  unfavorable 
comment.  She  possibly  has  none  of  the  deftness 
and  skill  which  are  as  second  nature  to  women 
who  have  been  to  the  manner  born.  In  circum- 
stances so  unfavorable,  with  a  husband  who  gen- 
erally cannot  give  her  much  help,  the  young  wife 
fades  and  loses  her  bloom,  her  health,  and  her 
gay  spirits.  Sometimes  she  is  obliged  to  assume 
t|ie  office  of  nurse  and  caretaker  to  a  selfish  in- 
did.  Sometimes  she  endures  for  weary  years 
le  fault-finding  and  caprice  of  uncongenial  peo- 
fe,  who  always  feel  her  to  be  an  alien  and 
outside^'^nd  not  of  their  clan.  She  is 
lold  her  own.  It  may  easily  happen 
emancipation  shall  never  arrive  until 
the  cord  that  binds  her,  releasing  her 
lome  that  had  been  almost  a  prison. 
je  the  old  people  themselves  away, 
free.  She  has  borne  the  hardest 
irrow  injustice.  When, 
i^ive^i  people  are  uniformly 
rust.  COTitentment  will  fold  her 
there, 
bave  her  mother,  nor 


can  a  man  Invariably  forsake  the  home  of  hi^ 
kith  and  kin.  Where  duty  is  relentless,  there 
must  be  either  an  indefinite  engagement,  which  is 
extremely  trying,  or  accommodation  to  circum- 
stances. 

Who  cannot  think  of  homes  that  might  have 
been  utterly  without  a  flaw,  that  had  in  them 
every  prospect  for  the  development  of  the  finest 
and  loveliest  virtues,  thrift,  generosity,  hospital- 
ity, affection,  yet  have  never  been  other  than 
dwarfed,  stunted,  and  shadowed,  because  of  the 
presence  of  uncongenial  kindred  who  should  have 
been  sheltered  elsewhere  ?  I  have  seen  weary  eyes 
closed,  weary  hands  folded,  and  youth  tired  out 
in  the  race,  laid  under  the  daisies  or  the  snow, 
when  a  little  common  sense,  a  sterner  effort  of 
protest,  would  have  changed  the  condition  and, 
made  life  beautiful  and  given  it  a  longer  term. : 

No  statement  can  cover  all  phases  of  home 
or  describe  every  possibility.     Broadly  speak] 
young  people   are   better   alone,   in   their   eS; 
trials  and  triumphs,  and  may  far  better  work^ 
their  problems  unaided.     When  this  is  imprr 
ticable,  it  is  well  for  the  young  \^feto  rememb 
that  there  cannot  be  two  wd^ierihsi^^l^  hea '  ' 


house.  One  must  take  control.  Suggestions 
and  advice  may  be  amiably  given  and  taken, 
but  responsibility  cannot  be  shared.  A  great 
deal  of  friction  will  be  avoided  if,  in  the  home 
life,  there  be  no  needless  tyranny,  no  petty 
interference,  if  either  the  mother,  who  has  the 
home  already,  maintain  her  sway,  or  abdicate, 
handing  the  sceptre  to  the  wife,  whose  entrance 
should  bring  only  joy. 

Apart  from  actual  residence  in  the  same  house, 
much  of  the  pleasure  of  life  may  result  from  a 
strong  family  feeling  and  frequent  meetings  of 
kith  and  kin.  Aunts  and  cousins  and  brothers 
and  sisters  may  be  the  greatest  help  where  the 
circle  is  wide  and  gatherings  of  the  clans  are 
family  festivals.  It  is  not  pleasant  social  inter- 
course, but  the  attrition  that  comes  of  being  too 
^continually  together  and  too  closely  in  contact, 
is  to  be  dreaded. 

''hy  this  very  radical  house-cleaning,  this 
shing  and  furbishing  and  strenuous  prepara- 
?  "  I  asked  a  young  housewife.  "  Your  home 
rwaYS,:,-m^^der ;  why  tire  yourself  by  super- 
'    , 2i^ffl^l;^ation  of  this  sort?" 

^luint  Kate  is  coming  to  spend  a  week," 

[40] 


^as  the  brief  reply,  with  a  flicker  of  amusement 
in  the  brown  eyes  and  a  tightening  of  the  Hps, 
that  was  succeeded  by  a  ripple  of  low  laughter. 

"  You  know,"  she  said,  "  that  John's  people 
are  notable,  and  my  people  are  not.  I  wouldn't 
have  a  speck  of  dust  or  dirt  in  the  house  while 
Aunt  Kate  is  here  for  half  of  my  next  quarter's 
allowance.  She  would  be  certain  to  see  it  and 
pity  John." 

*'  I  wish,"  observed  a  well-meaning  sister-in- 
law,  "  that  poor  Eugene  were  treated  by  his  wife 
as  he  was  always  treated  at  home.  Everybody 
and  everything  gave  way  to  him  there.  Mother 
brought  up  her  girls  to  wait  on  her  boys.  But 
Sally  actually  orders  the  poor  fellow  about,  and 
makes  fun  of  his  little  ways,  until  I  feel  like 
screaming,  I  am  so  annoyed." 

A  visiting  sister-in-law,  in  this  mood,  even  i^ 
she  have  the  grace  to  repress  speech,  is  apt 
produce  a  sense  of  thunder  in  the  atmosphere 
A  man  or  woman  who  is  aware  of  a  subtle  wit 
drawing  from  his  or  her  relations-in-law,  who 
sorry  when  the  time  comes  for  a  visit  from  the 
and  wears  penitential  s^i^cloth  next  the  si 
consequence,   while  the^ 


f) 


)^y 


The  Little  Kingdom  of  Home 


ci 


i 


by  marriage  keep  on  being  a  discipline,  shoulii^ 
exert  every  power  of  self-control  to  conceal  and 
suppress  the  antagonism  that  hammers  at  the 
heart's  gates.  It  is  ill-bred  and  unkind  to  mani- 
fest a  churl's  ungraciousness  when  company  must 
be  invited  or  welcomed,  and  the  husband  who 
makes  his  wife  uncomfortable  when  her  people 
visit  her  is  not  wholly  a  man  of  gentle  breeding, 
nor  does  his  wife  show  herself  that  finest  product 
^of  modern  training,  a  lady,  when  she  suffers  her- 
self to  reveal  dislike  or  contempt  toward  her 
husband's  people.  Before  the  irrevocable  choice 
las  been  made,  it  is  wise  to  think  whether  or 
^not  theneW^relatives  shall  prove  pleasant  or  the 
^pposire/  Once  the  marriage  vows  are  spoken, 
'^tck;^  late  to  canvass  the  matter.  Relations 
taken  as  they  are.  A  home  is  so  sacred 
lat  no  pettiness  of  motive,  no  meanness, 
should  be  allowed  to  creep  in  and 


he  little  foxes  that  spoil 
^  man  of  old. 
ufferii^s  of  life,  its  superfluous 
dlK^umerable  small  mosquito- 


'darts  of  worry  that  beset  the  unshielded  heart,  art 
enough  to  awaken  angeHc  pity. 

"  Meek  souls  there  are  who  little  dream 
Their  daily  life  an  angel's  theme, 
Nor  that  the  rod  they  bear  so  calm 
In  heaven  may  be  a  martyr's  palm." 


No  finer  example  of  impossibility  of  blending, 
where  the  types  are  distinct  and  there  is  little  in 
either  to  attract  the  other,  has  been  shown  in 
recent  literature  than  in  "  The  Mettle  of  the 
Pasture."  Pansy,  Dent  Meredith's  affianced  wife, 
makes  her  first  call  on  the  mother  of  her  be- 
trothed. Mrs.  Meredith,  high-born,  high-bred,  a 
woman  of  quality  the  finest  and  the  rarest,  ac- 
cepts, as  only  such  a  woman  may,  the  bride  her  son 
has  chosen.  She  is  clear-sighted.  She  is  kind. 
She  sits  and  thinks  of  Pansy,  as  Pansy  is  drive^ 
home  in  the  stately  Meredith  family  carriaj 
Poor  mother,  so  honest  and  so  disturbed ! 

"  She  makes  mistakes,  but  she  does  not  kt 
how  to  do  wrong.     Guile  is  not  in  her.     SI 
so  innocent  that  she  does  not  realize  sometimes 
peril  of  her  own  words.    She  is  pi^i^d,,^  a  grea^ 
deal  prouder  than  Dent.    To  h'tSCilfiwylJ^ons 


[43]  ^fi 


The  Little  Kingdom  of  Home 


and  duty;  more  than  that,  it  means  love.  She 
is  ambitious,  and  ambition  in  her  case  would  be 
indispensable.  She  did  not  claiyn  Dent,  I  appre- 
ciate that.  She  is  a  perfectly  brave  girl,  and  it 
is  cowardice  that  makes  so  many  women  hypo- 
crites. She  will  improve,  she  improved  while  she 
was  here.  But,  oh !  Everything  else !  No  fig- 
ure, no  beauty,  no  grace,  no  tact,  no  voice,  no 
hands,  no  anything  that  is  so  much  needed.  And 
if  she  only  would  not  so  try  to  expose  other  peo- 
ple! If  she  had  not  so  trampled  upon  me  in 
my  ignorance,  and  with  such  a  sense  of  triumph. 
I  was  never  so  educated  in  my  life  by  a  visitor. 
The  amount  of  information  she  imparted  in  half 
an  hour,  how  many  months  it  would  have  served 
the  purpose  of  a  well-bred  woman.  And  her 
pride  in  her  family,  were  there  ever  such  little 
brothers  and  sisters  outside  of  the  royal  family! 
her  devotion  to  her  father  and  remembrance 
er  mother.     I  shall  go  to  see  her,  and  be 

ived,  I  suppose,  somewhere  between  the  grid- 

and  the  churn." 

bor  Parjsy  on  her  part  went  home  and  re- 
ct^/^-^^Oor, homespun  child! 

if  M  the  edge  of  her  bed,  and  new 

[44] 


.fight  brought  new  wretchedness.  It  was  not,  ^j.{^ 
after  all,  quantity  of  information  that  made  the 
chief  difference  between  herself  and  Dent's 
mother.  The  other  things,  all  the  other  things, 
would  she  ever  acquire  them?  Finally  the  pic- 
ture rose  before  her,  of  how  the  footman  had 
looked  as  he  held  the  carriage  door  open  for  her, 
and  the  ducks  had  sprawled  all  over  his  feet, 
and  she  threw  herself  on  the  bed,  hat  and  all,  and 
burst  out  crying  with  rage,  grief,  and  mortifi- 
cation. 

"  '  She  will  think  I  am  common,'  she  moaned, 
'  and  I  am  not  common.  Why  did  I  say  such 
things?  It  is  not  my  way  of  talking.  Why  did 
I  criticise  the  way  the  portrait  was  hung?  And 
she  will  think  this  is  what  I  really  am,  and  it  is 
not  what  I  am.  She  will  think  I  do  not  even 
know  how  to  sit  in  a  chair.  She  will  tell  Dent, 
and  Dent  will  believe  her,  and  what  will 
of  me?'" 

A  better  illustration  of  the  sometime 
ciliability    of    relatives-in-law    has    seldom 
given.    But  what  Dent  said  the  next  day 

"  Pansy,  you  have  won  my  mother's 

Happily  for  both  wc 


w 


of  her  own  kind,  they  did  not  have  to  spend  their , 
hves  together. 

When  natures  as  incapable  of  minghng  as  oil 
and  water  are  forced  to  abide  between  the  same 
four  walls,  it  takes  almighty  power  and  the 
grace  of  God  continually  bestowed  to  enable  them 
to  live  decently  and  in  peace. 


[47] 


'HEY  have  come  again  to  the  apple-J 
Robin,  and  all  the  rest, 
When  the  world  of  the  orchard  is  fair  to 
In  the  snow  of  the  blossoms  dressed. 
W/Knd  the  prettiest  thing  in  the  land  wil| 
The  building  of  the  nest. 


[48] 


Where  Shall  the  Home  Be? 


NOT  if  it  can  be  avoided  in  hotel  or  board- 
ing-house, or  any  pubHc  caravansary. 
The  nomad  stamp  is  on  every  such  house 
of  accommodation  to  travellers,  and  it  is  not  best 
that  a  wedded  pair  should  start  in  life  as  pilgrims 
and  sojourners.  A  real  home,  though  consisting 
only  of  two  rooms,  is  to  be  preferred  to  a  make- 
shift, and  the  finest  inn  in  the  world  is  but  a 
makeshift  masquerading  as  a  home.  Admirable 
for  the  road,  inadequate  as  a  place  of  residence. 
For  one  thing,  the  bride  who  begins  her  mar- 
ried life  in  a  boarding-house  has  too  much  time 
on  her  hands.  Her  trousseau  is  so  complete  that 
she  has  no  need  to  use  her  needle.  Everyth 
in  her  own  and  her  husband's  wardrobe  is  new^ 
so  she  has  no  mending  to  do.  The  mistres 
the  house  is  responsible  for  the  household  mal 
agement,  and  the  bride  has  no  sweeping,  or  d 
ing,  or  catering,  or  cooking  to  occupy  her  ei^tv 
day.     She  drifts  into 


""^^i 


contented  gossip  with  her  fellow  boarders,  finds  <^^ 
recreation  and  diversion  in  purposeless  engage- 
ments, gives  too  many  hours  to  mere  amusement, 
card-playing  by  daylight,  endless  novel-reading, 
or  mere  pastimes.  In  their  place  and  time,  noth- 
ing is  to  be  said  against  agreeable  recreations, 
but  when  they  form  the  entire  business,  and  fill 
the  wasteful  leisure  of  a  woman's  days,  they  are 
too  frivolous,  and  too  fruitless  to  be  wholesome, 
esides  the  division  of  labor  is  manifestly  unfair, 
n  has  slipped  into  harness  at  once.  He  works 
1  day  over  his  ledger,  or  behind  his  counter, 
rks  to  the  point  of  drudgery,  and  comes  home 
althfully^^t^^d  at  night.  His  wife,  having 
layed  jfi^butterfly  during  the  same  number  of 
ts  him  in  her  dainty  frock,  her  flower- 
plifted  for  his  kiss,  but  they  have  no 
Mjtude  in  which  to  take  their  evening 
jcim^n  which  to  talk  over  the  incidents 
paration.    In  the  costly  hotel  they  dine 

waiters  bringing  deli- 

;hing  music  in  the 

boarding-house,  their 

s^out  against  the  preva- 

rounded  by  derelicts, 


with 
e  ibod,  and 
ground,^ 

thful  brigh 
oum 


women  whose  garb  of  black,  betokening  widow- ^ 
hood  and  lonehness,  or  spinsterhood  and  slender 
means,  being  in  the  large  majority.  The  tiniest 
city  flat,  the  most  diminutive  suburban  cottage,  is 
to  be  preferred  by  the  pair  beginning  married  life 
to  the  most  sumptuous  quarters  where  they  have 
little  privacy  and  few  duties.  Blessed  is  the  bride 
who  goes  directly  to  a  home  of  her  own  and 
spends  her  honeymoon  there. 

In  selecting  a  locality,  the  means  of  the  couple 
must  be  borne  in  mind.     Provided  the  husband's 
business  exacts  from  him  long  hours,  beginning 
early  and  ending  late,  he  must  not  be  too  far  from 
his  work.     A  home  should  be  found  within  a 
distance  that  will  tax  neither  his  purse  nor  his 
strength  too  heavily.     Tlie  choice  may  be  in  an 
unfashionable  region  down-town,  if  the  man  work 
in  a  large  city.    There  are  side  streets  which  w 
once  fashionable,  but  which  have  lost  their  pre 
tige  in  the  changing  conditions  of  the  town, 
here  rooms  may  be  obtained,  or  even  a  whc 
house,  at  a  figure  impossible  in  other  neighbc 
hoods.    Or,  if  a  suburb,  reached  by  electric  cars  oj 
a  ferry,  be  chosen,  the  little  home^mavbe  begu 
in  a  pleasant  environment,  witl^p^f^^J||^js, 

[51] 


i-^^K 


The  Little  Kingdom  of  Home 


of  garden,  the  quiet  of  the  country  and  its  fra-. 
grance  and  sunshine.  The  first  consideration  must 
be,  what  can  be  afforded,  and  the  next,  what  de- 
cision will  best  serve  the  convenience  of  the  man 
who  earns  the  daily  bread. 

These  questions  answered,  it  is  next  worth 
while  to  look  at  one  or  two  other  aspects  of  the 
case.  Is  the  new  home  near  a  church  of  the  de- 
nomination to  which  you  belong,  or  near  any 
which  you  would  like  to  attend?  As  citizens 
and  householders,  you  naturally  wish  a  church 
home.  Most  Americans  have  been  brought  up 
in  the  sweet  traditions  of  piety,  their  early  homes 
built  on  that  rock  of  righteousness,  inscribed  in 
the  dim  centuries  of  the  past,  by  the  prophet 
Micah,  "To  do  justly,  to  love  mercy,  to  walk 
humbly  with  thy  God."  Some  there  are  who, 
having   been   overstrictly    held    in   hand    during 

Idish  years,  suffer  from  reaction  when  they  are 
grown,  and  neglect  religion  and  its  obligations, 
but  they  are  fortunately  few.  Most  of  those 
whose  neglect  of  piety  is  open  and  defiant  in  this 
land  of  ours,  are  of  foreign  birth  and  upraising. 
AiTieriraOSQ^e  it  to  their  country  as  well  as  to 
ear  God  and  keep  his  command- 

[52] 


ments,  and  so,  in  selecting  a  place  for  a  home, 
they  will  not  go  too  far  from  a  church  where 
they  may  worship. 

If  they  decide  to  build,  and  have  a  home  ex- 
pressing their  own  wishes,  and  fulfilling  their 
own  intentions  as  a  hired  house  cannot,  they 
will  look  to  situation,  drainage,  and  the  probable 
health  of  the  surrounding  country.  To  spend 
money  on  accessories  and  neglect  essentials  is 
exceedingly  unwise.  Ask  yourselves,  if  you  are 
young  houseseekers,  what  you  most  want?  One 
answer  will  be,  a  fireplace,  another  a  veranda, 
another  a  view.  The  man  will  plead  for  a  good 
dry  cellar,  the  woman  for  plenty  of  closets,  both, 
if  they  are  sensible,  will  insist  on  the  best  avail- 
able sanitary  plumbing.  The  parlor  is  of  little 
consequence;  in  these  days  parlors  are  passing 
away,  but  a  generous  living-room,  where  ther 
may  be  window-seats  and  sunshine,  and  growin 
plants,  and  books,  easy  chairs,  and  a  piano  sho 
be  in  the  architect's  plan.  A  good-sized  kitch 
with  separate  laundry,  more  than  a  single  bat 
room,  and  hardwood  floors  are  among  the  mod^n 
requisites.  The  sooner  (g^punjg,  cpuoje  ^ 
build  their  own  home,     '        *      ^^ 


ment  in  the  soil,  the  surer  is  their  outlook  for- 
permanent  settlement. 

Otice  having  established  a  home,  the  temptation 
to  move  for  some  slight  fancied  betterment  of 
conditions  should  be  resisted.  People  waste  their 
substance  by  too  many  and  too  frequent  removals. 
Occasionally  it  becomes  a  duty  to  pull  up  stakes 
and  pitch  the  tent  elsewhere.  If  a  man's  business 
engagements  force  him  East,  West,  North  or 
)uth,  his  household  must  follow  his  fortunes, 
it  to  move  merely  for  caprice,  to  gratify  a  whim, 
to  gain  a  doubtful  advantage,  is  foolish  and 
:travagant. 

Bewap^^f   living   beyond   your   means.      A 

(ver    living    expenses    is    symbolic    of 

md   a   pledge   of   independence.      Mr. 

's  wretched  policy  of  mortgaging  the 

npating  every  penny,  living  forever 

idge  of  debt,  and  never  accumulat- 

the^^rainy  day,   is  one  to  be 

ize  peace  of  mind  and 

^village   blacksmith,    in 

)em,  wno  could  "  look  the  whole 

)wed  not  any  man,"  is 

)elted  earl  or  gallant 


knight  with  a  string  of  unpaid  bills  as  long  as  the 
list  of  his  titles.  The  home  may  be  large  or  small, 
but  let  it  be  the  home  that  suits  the  income. 
Simplicity  is  the  key-note  of  happy  living.  Stri- 
ving for  display,  attempting  to  surpass  one's 
neighbors,  incurring  obligations  that  cannot  be 
immediately  paid  on  the  presentation  of  the 
accounts,  are  among  the  greatest  blunders  young 
people  can  make.  "  Mr.  Micawber,"  said  his 
patient  wife,  writing  to  David  Copperfield,  "  is 
morose:  he  is  severe."  Why  not,  poor  man, 
with  creditors  descending  on  him  in  battalions, 
and  his  roseate  hopes  of  independence  ever  van- 
ishing in  gray  mist? 

Wherever  the  home  is,  let  it  be  Kroadly  based 
on  uncompromising  integrity.  City  or  country, 
farmstead  or  hamlet,  seashore  or  inland  town, 
Florida  or  Maine,  the  rule  must  be  the  same,  i. 
is  the  home  one  can  afford  that  is  really  Ho 
Sweet  Home. 

We  should  not  forget  that  home  is  the  m 
refuge  and  the  woman's  intimate  domain. 

The  English,  who  are  especially  a  home-lovin 
race,  say  that  a  m&n's  house  is  hi^^^tle.     Ex- 
cept as  he  invites  them,  peo^fre'*93^'^t!^  inva< 


Englishman's   home   nor   intrude   upon   his 
privacy. 

Among  us,  there  is  possibly  a  little  less  appre- 
ciation of  the  blessedness  of  home  privacy.  This 
is  the  natural  outcome  of  our  living  too  much 
under  the  hammer  of  the  auctioneer,  being  tenants 
at  the  will  of  the  real  estate  owner,  and  moving 
from  house  to  house  so  often  and  for  pretexts 
so  slight.  Those  who  are  what  a  clever  author 
has  denominated  "  van  dwellers,"  can  hardly 
taste  the  full  sweetness  of  a  home  that  hides 
itself  under  the  trees  that  have  guarded  genera- 
tions, that  hears  the  cawing  of  the  rooks  in 
ancient  belfries,  that  nestles  beneath  immemorial 
elms,  and  hears  the  birds  sing,  as  they  sang 
hundreds  of  years  ago.  Some  effect  of  perma- 
nency we  may  reach  after,  and  some  effect  attain, 
^garding  our  homes  as  ours,  by  making  them 
of  pleasant  and  dignified  hospitality,  and 
Irrounding  them,  when  they  are  in  the 
^try,  with  gardens  and  trees. 
]ey  who  have  some  interest  in  the  soil,  some 
jst  t^^jfif^,  some  vineyard,  some  field  to 
^atch>Jp^flS§J^I5^ering  of  bulbs  and  hardy  annuals 

[56] 


to  await,  some  trees  to  love,  will  not  too  easily 
or  too  often  change  their  places  of  residence. 

When  first  establishing  a  home,  there  is  happi- 
ness in  dwelling  among  people  whose  means  and 
style  of  living  approximate  one's  own.  The 
clerk  or  travelling  salesman,  the  rrian  of  modest 
though  fixed  income,  is  unwise  to  choose  his  home 
in  a  locality,  however  convenient,  that  is  the 
stately  camping-ground  of  wealth  and  fashion. 
Go  to  the  hamlet  farther  on,  by  preference.  In 
a  provincial  town  where  few  people  have  wealth, 
and  equally  few  have  poverty,  the  conditions  are 
peculiarly  enviable.  A  college  town,  near  a  me- 
tropolis, furnishes  an  exceedingly  pleasant  back- 
ground for  the  quiet  homes  of  refined  people 
who  desire  "  plain  living  and  high  thinking." 
Next  to  this  comes  a  suburban  village,  where 
people  of  moderate  means  have  homes  of  simila 
size  and  equipment.  This  affords  opportunit 
for  sociability,  for  neighborly  kindness,  and  tli 
sort  of  agreeable  acquaintance  that  grows  wi 
the  years,  into  stable  and  delightful  friendship. 

The  seamy  side  of  city  life  is  in  the  aloofne^ 
of  neighbors.     One  may  .be  a  tenant  in  a^fithe 
apartment-house,  under  the  broad  roof  of  which 


The  Little  Kingdom  of  Home 


•many  families  live,  yet  may  scarcely  know  by 
sight  others  in  the  same  building.  The  joys  and 
sorrows  of  those  about  one  are  of  small  moment 
when  one  lives  in  a  flat,  and  it  is  precisely  the 
same  thing  whether  it  be  a  cheap  five-room  affair 
in  a  back  street,  or  a  palatial  edifice  in  a  fashion- 
able quarter.  The  spirit  of  good  neighborhood 
flies  from  a  flat.  While  one  does  not  wish  one's 
home  to  have  open  doors  for  the  continual  pro- 
^sion  of  visitors,  one  does  sometimes  long  for  a 
lendly  face ;  in  the  crucial  periods  of  family  ex- 
frience  or  the  occasional  domestic  crises,  or  times 
len  little  worries  crowd,  "  better  is  a  neighbor 
is  ntzx^,,,^^n  a  brother  that  is  far  off." 

)t  understand,"  said  a  bride,  who  had 

been  a  member  of  a  large  family, 

bringing  up  had  been   in  a  village 

j>le  ran  in  to  borrow  a  cup  of  milk 

teaspoonful  of  vanilla  when  they 

sufpplies  short,  where  women  took 

tsewlng  aft^^^^^  and  passed  an  hour 

^oppos^^^^^^rs,  exchanging  good- 

ily  gossip,   "  I  cannot 

^dure  a  great  town." 

^big  apartment-house, 


where  she  was  all  day  alone,  told  heavily  upon, 
her  health  and  spirits.     She  could  not  accustom 
herself  to  city  isolation. 

A  dear  gentlewoman,  whom  many  loved,  solved 
the  problem  for  herself.  A  child  of  the  country, 
she  brought  to  the  city  her  rural  friendliness, 
and  kept  it  all  her  life.  In  her  older  years,  when 
she  was  feeble,  her  sweetness  was  unabated,  old 
and  young  sought  her;  she  was  the  confidante 
of  lovers,  and  the  adviser  of  the  perplexed.  The 
maids  who  waited  on  her  were  adoring  in  their 
service.  When,  early  one  winter's  morning,  she 
heard  God's  call  to  come  home,  and  slipped  like  a 
snowflake  from  this  world  into  another,  there 
was  mourning  everywhere,  for  a  home  lost  to 
great  and  small,  as  a  place  of  retreat,  an  ark  for 
the  storm-tossed,  as  well  as  for  a  beautiful  soul 
gone  hence. 


[59] 


[6.] 


/mV 


OT  in  the  pomp  of  rich  adorning, 
Nor  in  pride  of  heart's  desire, 
Shall  we  sit  around  our  fire 
^In  our  dear  home's  earliest  morning. 
)imple  lives  are  happiest; 
jplendor  is  for  palace  halls. 
^^Comfort  be  our  chosen  guest, 
'""Here  within  our  sheltering  walls. 


[62] 


CHAPTER  IV. 


How  Shall  the  Home  Be  Furnished? 


TO  her  new  home  the  bride  carries,  as  her 
special  contribution  to  its  furnishing,  a 
well-chosen  stock  of  household  linen. 
This  may  be  extensive  or  limited,  according  to  her 
purse.  Dainty  linen  in  generous  quantity  is  a 
source  of  great  pride  and  much  comfort  to  a 
womanly  soul.  The  finest  napery  is  not  too  ele- 
gant to  please  a  fastidious  housekeeper,  yet  there 
are  times  and  seasons,  and  she  who  is  forehanded 
and  thrifty  usually  keeps  something  of  the  best 
in  reserve  in  her  linen-closet,  so  that,  on  occa- 
sions of  moment,  her  table  may  be  royally  spread, 
and  her  guest-chamber  delicately  adorned.  Goo^ 
linen  is  a  treasure  worth  possessing,  and  a  line 
chest,  fully  supplied  with  every  requisite  in  ^ 
line,  is  a  sumptuous  gift  to  any  bride,  a  gif 
bride  always  highly  values.  In  other  lands, 
Germany,  Holland,  France,  and  Austria,  th 
bridal-chest  of  fine  linen  is  thou^t  of  by  the> 
mother  when  the  little  maiden  iS^bom,  ai^ 


wt 


[63] 


^■M 


The  Little  Kingdom  of  Home     ^ 

0: 


she  is  still  a  babe  in  her  cradle,  the  fond  mother^ 
begins  to  spin  and  weave  and  lay  away  in  fra- 
grant lavender  the  linen  the  girl  will  have  as  a 
part  of  her  preparation  for  wifehood. 

From  the  flax-fields,  or  the  cotton-fields,  come 
the  sheets  and  pillow-slips,  that,  whitening  in  the 
sun,  hold  the  sweetness  of  outdoor  air  and  the 
blessing  of  the  open  sky.  From  the  wide  acres 
where  the  wind  fanned,  and  rains  wet,  and  dews 
refreshed,  and  sunshine  fed  it,  comes  the  cloth 
for  the  home  table.  Refined  by  the  rough  proc- 
esses of  the  machinery  that  separate  and  tear 
and  finish  and  finally  newly  create  it,  with  a 
sheen  of  silver  on  its  face,  and  a  pattern  of 
snowdrop,  lily,  rose,  diamond,  scroll,  or  block 
inwoven  cunningly,  nothing  is  more  fascinating 
to  touch  and  handle,  nothing  so  charms  a  woman's 
very  soul,  as  fine  linen.  -  -.  ., 

The  peasant  mother  and  the  queen,  the  gentle- 

an  in  her  castle,  and  the  tradeswoman  behind 

counter,  alike,  in  the  old  lands  across  the  sea, 

rsonally  superintend  the  wedding  outfit  of  the 

ighter,  and  the  beginning  is  made  early,  so  that, 

b^.-^^r,  the  store  is  increased.     Something 

like'^hift/'feiSxJa  hoarding  of  sentiment  that  should 

[64] 


iHow  Shall  the  Home  be  Furnished  m 

s2/ 


be  like  perfume   from  a  hundred  sweet  memo-, 
ries  and  associations,  might  well  be  done  for  the 
bride  of  the  future  by  our  American  mothers. 

All  the  plenishing  need  not  be  of  actual  linen, 
for  cotton  sheets  and  pillow-slips  are  in  very 
general  use,  and,  when  fine  and  of  good  quality, 
are  as  appropriate  as  are  linen  sheets,  to  which 
many  object  because  they  are  colder,  and,  to 
a  degree,  smoother.  Some  prefer  the  surface 
of  cotton  cloth  to  that  of  linen.  Every  bride 
should  have  a  few  linen  sheets  for  summer  use 
and  for  state  occasions,  even  if  she  seldom  brings 
them  forth  in  common  days.  It  is  better,  if 
economy  must  be  consulted  before  marriage,  to 
have  fewer  gowns  and  wraps,  a  less  ample  ward- 
robe, and  fewer  changes  of  underclothing,  with 
not  so  much  elaboration  of  lace  and  embroidery, 
and  to  take  to  the  new  home  an  outfit  of  house- 
hold napery  which  shall  last  for  a  year  or  vc\ox-k 
and  form  a  foundation  for  a  well  supplied  linen- 
closet  hereafter. 

The  prudent  housekeeper  never  allows  her  Hn( 
supply  to  become  scanty.     From  year  to  year 
adds  to  it,  now  a  dozen  napkins  or  towels,  aa?am 
a  new  table-cloth,  or  sevt¥h1  pairs  d£>sfte5 


>'r~*< 


f^. 


The  Little  Kingdom  of  Home 


^ 


if  she  be  a  good  manager,  she  uses  her  things^  ^^j 
according  to  system,  the  oldest  first,  and  the  rest 
in  order. 

Old  linen  should  be  carefully  preserved,  as  in 
emergencies  it  may  be  useful,  particularly  in  case 
of  illness  or  accident. 

The  husband's  share  in  the  furnishing  is  to 
provide  carpets  and  curtains,  rugs,  chairs,  bed- 
steads, tables,  crockery,  and  the  whole  parapher- 
nalia of  household  goods,  including  the  pots,  pans, 
ttles,  and  other  utensils  requisite  in  the  kitchen, 
ilver  and  glass  and  china  are  so  often  given  as 
^edding  presents,  that  it  is  as  well  to  omit  them 
om  the  list-^made  out  in  anticipation  of  the 
appy  e^^.  Indeed,  most  young  people  find 
mselves  provided  with  plenty  of  silver  through 
generosity  of  their  respective  families,  who 
1  that  this  portion  of  the  furnishing  belongs 
them.v'^^^Che  custom  of  giving  presents  at  wed- 
mgs  is^'*^^^5ncient,  and  is  confined  to  no  com- 


umty 
had#sbrt  of 


equipm 


race.  ^- Ij:   would  seem  that  the  new 


ion  from  families  preceding 


to4pok  for  the  more  ornate 
't  to  those  who  have  sent  it  out 


hose  traditioj^itjvi^  carry  on. 
[66] 


3 


f^r 


ow  Shall  the  Home  be  Furnished? 


The  properties  of  the  home  would  better  be^,; 
simple,  and  in  furnishing  the  young  people  should  ' 
build  from  the  kitchen  up.  A  well-furnished 
house  has  a  kitchen  supplied  with  every  article 
used  in  the  preparation  of  food  and  for  the  other 
work  that  belongs  there.  Next,  the  bedrooms 
should  have  whatever  is  for  comfort  and  health. 
This  part  of  the  furnishing  need  never  be  elab- 
orate, nor,  indeed,  very  costly.  But  here  let 
money  be  expended,  not  for  show,  not  in  carved 
wood  and  elegant  upholstery,  but  first,  as  indis- 
pensable, on  the  beds.  A  good  bed  has  a  soft, 
elastic  mattress  and  an  approved  spring.  Hard, 
lumpy  beds,  tightly  stuffed  pillows,  and  neglect  of 
the  ease  and  refreshment  a  bed  should  give,  are, 
in  these  days,  unpardonable  mistakes,  not  to  say 
inexcusable  sins. 

The  old  fashion  of  sleeping  in  a  billowy  heap^, 
of  feathers,  rising  mountain  high  when  the  bq 
was  made  by  day,  sinking  valley  deep  when  tl 
slumberer   plunged   into  the   couch   at   night, <i| 
fortunately  obsolete.     In  the  early  days  of 
country,   when   heating  methods  were  primit 
and  houses  so  exposed  to  the  inclemency  of  tb 
weather  that  snow  sifted  under  t^/dt^ors, 

[67] 


^^^ 


The  Little  Kingdom  of  Hoine 


^ 


s\ 


the  sleet,  battering  against  the  eaves  and  roof, 
sent  its  icy  breath  into  the  freezing  chambers, 
when  the  roaring  fire  on  the  vast  hearth  sent  a 
good  share  of  its  warmth  up  the  chimney,  feather 
beds  had  their  occasion.  They  are  rehcs  of  a 
past  that  lacked  the  luxury  of  our  own  times, 
yet  they  may  still  be  found  in  many  farmhouses, 
and  there  are  brides  whose  mothers  would  con- 
sider them  ill-equipped  for  life's  emergencies 
without  a  feather  bed. 

When  the  bride,  taking  up  modern  ideas,  no 
longer  cares  for  such  a  bed,  she  can  utilize  it  in 
making  the  innumerable  pillows  and  cushions 
which  are  now  a  part  of  our  ordinary  furnishing. 
Some  color  scheme,  as  a  foundation,  should 
run  through  a  house.  The  better  choice  in  wall- 
paper and  paint  is  usually  a  quiet  color  rather 
than  one  that  is  positive  and  striking,  but  certain 
ts  may  here  be  remembered  to  advantage. 
is  that  red  is  a  warm  tint,  and  that  deep 
on  tlie  walls  of  a  room  insensibly  lessens 
ize.  A  lofty  room,  of  large  and  ample  spaces, 
led  and  papered  in  a  rich  dark  red,  will  look 
re  cozy  than  if  the  wall-paper  and 
ray,  or  green,  or  blue.     White  is 

[68] 


I'i 


:i>   I 


shade  of  light  gray.  Yellow  gives  an  effect  of 
sunlight :  a  touch  of  yellow  in  a  sunless  room 
always  brightens  it.  Flowers  and  scrolls  and 
paper  sprinkled  with  gilt  and  silver  are  never 
decorative.  A  plain  cartridge-paper,  with  frieze 
and  dado  of  strong  contrast  to  relieve  it,  will 
make  a  hall  or  reception-room  attractive. 

As  a  rule,  red  should  be  avoided  in  bedrooms. 
It  is  a  good  tint  for  a  dining-room,  or  for  a 
living-room  that  is  situated  on  the  exposed  side 
of  the  house,  where  cold  winds  shake  the  panes. 

While  a  cheerful  pattern  of  vines  and  roses,  or 
pink  poppies  on  a  white  background,  or  daisies 
scattered  on  a  field  of  light  green,  may  be  pretty 
for  a  sleeping-room  when  one  is  in  health,  and, 
though  the  furniture  and  draperies  may  be  chosen 
as  to  correspond  with  such  a  paper,  it  is  more  the 
trying  when  one  is  ill.  Not  without  careful  col 
sideration  have  physicians  dispensed  with  pictuj 
and  ornaments,  and  selected  neutral  colors  for 
walls  of  hospital  wards  and  private  rooms, 
patient  recovering  from  an  operation,  or  conv; 
cing  from  fever,  is  great 
of  gilt  arabesques,  or  sei 


and  meandering  lines,  while  flowers  may  become" 
to  such  an  one  a  deadly  nightmare.  A  sleeping- 
room  should  have  only  essentials,  and  its  furniture 
of  every  kind,  beginning  with  the  walls,  should 
be  of  the  simplest  and  least  obtrusive  kind.  An 
invalid  is  sometimes  almost  frantic  in  a  cluttered, 
over-ornamented  room. 

Hardwood  floors  are  to  be  preferred  to  any 
other,  and  rugs  to  carpets.     A  carpet  nailed  to 
floor  was  formerly  supposed  to  be  the  acme 
desire,   but  most  people  now  appreciate  the 
vantages  of  rugs,  which  may  be  easily  taken  up 
d  shaken,  ^nd  of  a  house  which  never  requires 
e  eartlrcjpake  of  the  old-fashioned  house-clean- 

«h-me  passing  of  the  parlor,  once  so  sacred 

'ro9m.J^hat   its   precincts   were   regarded   with 

G^^^j^en,  and  its  closed  doors  enshrined 

e  hotrselS&i^  holy  of  holies,  a  different  idea 

has   ol stained   swa:;^>4ii,,^r  homes.     The  parlor 

l^as  a  place  of  d^nity;   c«ten  of  literal  chill  and 

reezing    isolati^fep^In-Saome    families    it    was 

L6d,otlty~C)l£-inomentous  occasions,  as  a  wed- 

g  or  a   funeral. ^^^^(^...smiltlike  gloom  and  an 

almost  sepulchral  atmosphere  invested  some  rural 

[70] 


parlors,  and  one  stepped  out  of  them,  with  their 
solemn  photographs  or  portentous  family  por- 
traits on  the  walls,  and  their  horsehair  chairs  and 
sofas,  slippery  and  uncompromising,  into  the  easy- 
going sitting-room,  where  people  lived  and 
worked  and  laughed  and  chatted,  with  the  relief 
of  persons  released  from  prison.  Blessed  be  shab- 
biness  of  a  certain  kind.  Parlors  in  our  grand- 
mother's days  were  never  shabby.  They  were 
stiff,  formal,  majestic;  they  were  places  in  which 
to  reflect  on  the  vicissitudes  and  the  uncertainties 
and  mutations  of  this  mortal  life. 

Fortunately,  nobody  now  need  have  a  drawing- 
room,  a  parlor,  or  a  reception-room  unless  she 
very  much  prefers  it.    A  great  lady  with  a  great 
establishment  may  have  such  rooms  en  suite.  The 
majority  of  us,  who  prize  space  and  study  econ 
omy,   are   happy   in   a   living-room   which   m 
combine  the  best  features  of  library  and  drawin, 
room,  yet  be  not  too  elegant,  nor  too  ornate, 
too  dainty  for  everybody's  common  use.     Here 
there  may  be  low  bookcases  filled  with  inviting 
volumes,  easy  chairs,  and  cushioned  rockers,  win-    .^ 
dow-seats,  where  a  child  cuddles  tip'^^er  a  beloved-^^^ 
book,  or  a  maiden  in  the  shadow  of  a  curtain 

[71]  "  ^ 


'^ 


JiKvatches  for  the  coming  of  her  sweetheart,  and 
whence,  morning  and  evening,  the  wife  waves  her 
hand  to  speed  her  husband  on  his  way  to  business 
or  greet  him  on  his  return  at  night.  A  few  pic- 
tures are  here,  well  chosen,  and  with  a  story  to  tell ; 
there  may  be  a  piano,  and  there  is  always  a  table 
as  a  household  centre,  where  the  lamp  burns 
brightly,  books  and  papers  lie  about,  and  the 
tokens  of  feminine  presence  are  evident  in  the 
work-basket  with  its  implements,  needles,  thread, 
scissors,  thimble,  and  delicate  stuff  in  which 
stitches  are  set. 

A  lady  stamps  her  own  individuality  on  her 
living-room.   It  grows  to  look  like  her.   If  she  is  a 
lover  of  flowers,  she  will  have  plants  somewhere; 
if  she  has  many  friends,  and  is  fond  of  corres- 
pondence,  her   desk  and   note-paper   will   reveal 
Juhat  womanly  taste.    Her  room  will  speak  of  her 
jr  friends  alike  in  her  presence  and  absence, 
living-room  where  every  nook  and  corner 
eloquent  of  home,  had,  as  its  centre,  a  great 
)lace,    filled    through    summer    with    green 
mches  of  laurel,  and  in  the  early 
)ldenrod,  except  when  morning  or 
:cuse  for  the  leaping  flame.    How 

[72] 


Ihe  pine-knots  blazed  and  the  dancing,  flickering, 
wavering  tongues  of  fire  played  in  shadow  on 
the  ceiling,  when,  at  twilight,  a  merry  band  of 
people,  young  and  old,  gathered  around  the 
hearth.  The  floor-space  of  this  generously  pro- 
portioned room  could  be  thrown  into  a  single  area, 
when  it  was  desirable,  but,  ordinarily,  screens 
divided  it  into  dining-room,  library,  reception- 
room,  and  nursery.  The  screens  were  easily  port- 
able, and  secured  privacy  at  any  moment  for 
those  who  wished  to  be  apart  from  the  throng. 

Another  living-room,  combining  almost  every 
admirable  feature,  is  long  and  low-ceiled,  with 
bookcases  along  one  side,  and  a  great  table  across 
the  end.  Flowers  abound  here  the  winter  through, 
the  mistress  having  the  art  of  coaxing  them  into 
lavish  bloom,  no  matter  how  fiercely  the  sleet 
dashes  against  the  windows.  The  carpet  is  fadec 
and  threadbare,  the  furniture  has  seen  hard  sei 
ice,  but  the  room  is  perfumed  with  the  fragran;j 
of  roses,  and  its  spirit  is  so  sweet,  that  one  fe 
that  here,  in  one  generation  after  another, 
has  broken  its  vase  of  alabaster  in  tender  off( 
at  the  feet  of  Him  whosg,  presence  glorifie^he 
plainest  home. 


tMy  \\'hat  does  it  matter,  if  we  have  love  and  love's 
capacity  for  self-effacement,  and  love's  deep  soul 
of  sacrifice,  and  love's  gentleness  and  long-suffer- 
ing, what  the  shell  of  our  home  life  is?  It  may 
be  a  richly  furnished  house,  or  a  house  severe 
in  its  austerity ;  this  is  a  mere  detail.  Those  who 
live  in  the  home  make  its  peace  or  mar  its  har- 
mony. The  externals  are  valuable  only  as  they 
are  the  revelations  of  a  beautiful  inner  life,  the 
ressions  of  a  noble  character. 
Around  one  sumptuous  hearth  are  carved  words 
blessing  and  welcome  to  all  who  come  beneath 
roof.  Whether  or  not  such  a  legend  is  any- 
it  should  be  inscribed  in  every  heart 
me  plenishing  and  furnishing  be  or- 
a  view  to  that  end.  Blessings  on 
old,  child  and  guest,  servant  and 
the  portals  of  the  real  home.  - 
be  forgotten  that  a  home  is  not 
s  v^rs  drift  silently  by,  the 
ome  fruitions  go  on. 


^wnere  vi 
antj  th 

ered  \\^: 
youngs 

istran.c'cr. 
J|Tt  sli,  ^__ 
iftm^hed  ill  a  day 
me\accumulat 


re  and  more  M^^ome-igathers  into  itself,  as 
^  a  sheaf,  the  things  m6st  to  be  desired,  until 
k^  every  room  becomes  a  sanctuary. 


[74] 


[75] 


'O^'; 


ij  T'S  welcome  hame,  my  bairnie, 

Hame,  to  mither  an'  me; 
An'  it's  never  may  ye  find  less  o'  love, 

Than  the  love  ye  brought  wi'  ye! 
^Cauld  are  the  blasts  o'  the  wild  wind,^ 
And  rough  the  warld  may  be, 
i^But  warm's  the  hame  o'  the  wee  one, 
In  the  hearts  o'  mither  an'  me. 


[76] 


The   Coming  of  Children 


BEAUTIFUL  years  are  those  when  the  chil- 
dren come,  one  by  one,  filHng  the  home 
with  their  gaiety  and  gladness,  and  bring- 
ing new  interests  into  the  lives  of  their  parents. 
It  is  a  curious  phase  of  modern  civilization  that 
has  brought  on  the  part  of  parents  a  hesitating 
acceptance  of  the  joy  of  offspring,  born  of  reluc- 
tant motherhood  and  indifferent  fatherhood. 
Women  shrink,  amid  the  absorbing  occupations 
and  enervating  luxuries  of  the  city,  from  the 
drain  upon  their  time,  and  the  interruption  in  their 
social  duties,  made  by  the  bearing  and  rearing 
of  children,  while  in  the  drudgery  of  farm  life,^ 
often  monotonous  and  beyond  the  housewife^ 
strength,  unaided  by  competent  help,  women  are^ 
averse  to  the  care  of  large  families.  There  wi 
need  in  this  nation  that  some  one  should  uttc 
aeainst    race    suicide,    as    Theodoi 


warnmg 


Roosevelt  boldly  did,  and  there  is  need 
cry  should  be  emphasis 


■f/^ 


5> 


^ 


The  Little  Khigdorn  of  Home 


mong  the  untaught,  the  very  poor,  in  the  vast^ 
tenement  districts  where  ahen  peoples  throng, 
slowly  assimilating  what  the  republic  has  to  give 
them,  babies  swarm.  A  family  on  the  East 
Side,  New  York,  the  father  sallow  and  stoop- 
shouldered,  bending  over  a  tailor's  press-board 
or  a  cobbler's  last,  stitching  hour  after  hour,  day 
in  and  day  out,  the  pallid  mother  pottering  over 
her  confused  housekeeping,  and  the  family 
squeezed  and  cramped  into  dark,  ill-smelling,  and 
dirty  rooms,  like  cells,  will  often  have  ten  or  a 
dozen  children,  tumbling  into  the  world, at  the  rate 
of  one  every  twelvemonth,  not  rosy,  sturdy,  dim- 
pled specimens,  such  as  with  equal  rapidity  arrive 
in  the  cottage  of  the  English  farm-laborer,  but 
hollow-eyed,  gaunt,  and  scrawny  little  ones,  who 
must  battle  hard  for  a  foothold  from  the  begin- 
ning of  their  lives.  When  these  families  of  the 
eign-born  population  are  so  large,  it  is  a  pitiful 
ast  that  the  avenue  mansions,  inhabited  by 
own  people,  where  wealth  and  beauty  go 
^d  in  hand,  have  so  few  children.  Three  is 
number  apparently  most  in  evidence  in  the 
narxi^^i^erican  household  of  the  ordinary 
coml^r'CTpie'appointment,  where  the  ample  means 

[78] 


are  more  than  sufficient  to  provide  good  living-,  ^1^S> 
with  a  wholesome  environment.  In  these  homes, 
if  there  are  four,  five,  or  six  children,  the  mother 
is  openly  pitied  by  her  friends,  and  commiseration 
rather  than  felicitation  greets  the  youngest  born 
of  the  group.  The  parents,  indeed,  are  apt  to 
be  apologetic  over  their  immense  family,  as  if  it 
were  somehow  a  mistake. 

A   childless   lot,   if   God   appoint   it,   must  be 
taken  from  his  hand  and  met  with  resignation. 
'■  Between    the   plague   of   their   living   and   the 
dread  of  their   dying,"   said  a  childless  mother 
to  the  mother  of  a  round  half-dozen,  "  I  cannot 
see  that  you  are  better  off  than  I,  who,  at  least, 
have  the  minimum  of  toil   and  anxiety."     But 
she  had  not  tasted  the  unfathomed  sweetness  of 
the  cup   of  maternity.      "  I   grieve   sometimes," 
said  a  mother,  whose  latest  born  was  a  sturdy 
fellow  ready  to  enter  college,  "  that  I  shall  nev^^'; 
again  know  the  unspeakable  delight  of  lookii^g 
for  the  first  time  into  the  wee  face  of  my  ne\^ 
baby.     The  depth  of  my  bliss  was  as  great  wl^iif 
the  seventh  came  as  when  I  held  the  first  bafeyj 
to  my  breast."     Home,  be  it 
incomplete  until  a  child   has 

[79] 


The  Little  Kingdom  of  Home 


m 


When  the  young  father  and  mother  look  into 
each  other's  eyes  above  the  cradle  of  the  first- 
born, an  element  of  intense  sacredness  permeates 
their  union.  Well  for  them,  if  over  that  cradle 
the  mother  hear  a  voice  from  heaven,  saying: 
"  Take  this  child,  and  train  it  for  me,  and  I  will 
give  thee  thy  wages."  Hers  is  the  sacred  duty 
of  watching  the  very  earliest  years.  The  father's 
opportunity  comes  later. 

In  these  days  of  scientific  study,  babies  are 
taken  very  seriously  by  thoughtful  mothers,  and 
it  almost  seems  as  if  they  are  less  fully  enjoyed 
than  they  once  were.  Every  hour  of  the  infant's 
life  is  planned:  so  much  time  allotted  for  sleep- 
ing, so  much  for  outdoor  air ;  the  food  is  weighed 
and  sterilized,  the  temperature  is  taken,  and  the 
nursery  is  a  room's  width  away  from  the  parents' 
chamber.  Child-culture  classes  attract  the  young 
ther.  She  is  desperately  afraid  of  making  an 
arable  blunder,  of  doing  this  or  the  other 
she  should  not,  of  lavishing  caresses,  of  too 
h  petting,  of  too  much  coddling.  The  little 
ous  pucker  on  her  forehead  deepens;  she 
s  notk3ei4;Hlv  the  full  sweetness  of  her  baby's 
year,  in  her  terror  lest  she  shall 

[80] 


_ injure  him  by  some  error  in  management.    A  little  J,*\ 
wholesome  neglect  did  not  formerly  hurt  infancy, 
and  it  is  an  open  question  whether  it  might  not 
even  yet  be  worth  while  not  to  force  babyhood 
quite  so  far  into  the  centre  of  the  stage. 

The  place  for  the  baby,  during  baby  days,  is 
in  the  happy  background.  By  the  time  that  there 
are  several  golden  heads  in  the  nursery,  the 
mother  grows  less  anxious  about  her  theories; 
she  suffers  discipline  to  take  more  care  of  itself; 
the  children  help  to  educate  one  another.  It  is 
marvellous  how  little  trouble  is  taken  about  baby 
number  eight,  and  yet  the  youngest  born  grows 
just  as  fast,  and  develops  as  many  remarkable 
and  lovable  traits  as  any  of  his  predecessors. 

Paul  Hayne,  the  poet  of  the  Southland,  wrote 
a  lovely  lyric  about  the  children  growing  up  — 

"  The  children,  ah  !  the  children, 
Your  innocent,  joyous  ones. 
Your  daughters  with  smiles  of  sunshine, 
Your  buoyant  and  laughing  sons. 

•*  Look  long  in  their  happy  faces, 
Drink  love  from  their  sparkling  eyes, 
For  the  wonderful  charm  of  childhood, 
How  soon  it  withers  and  d^h 


"  A  few  fast  vanishing  summers, 
A  season  or  twain  of  frost, 
And  you  suddenly  ask,  bewildered, 
What  is  it  my  heart  hath  lost?  " 


The  children  spring  up  so  fast,  that,  before 
one  realizes  it,  the  little  feet,  pattering  over  the 
floor,  are  treading  the  gay  measure  of  youth,  or 
falling  sober-paced  into  the  activities  of  maturity. 
The  first  trousers  and  the  first  pockets  mark  an 
ra  for  the  little  lad;  he  is  a  baby  no  longer, 
a  man  in  embryo.  If  one  wants  to  read  an 
yl  of  child-life,  let  him  do  it  in  the  experience 
every  mother,  who  sees  the  sharp  shears  cut 
her  boy'^^'golden  ringlets,  and  looks  at  the 
orn  hegx^ear-blinded  and  with  quivering  lips. 
hetOT  does  not  cry.  It  is  his  day  of  triumph  : 
utqking  is  coming  to  his  own.  When  the 
e  Qiie^first  go  to  school,  which,  in  this  happy 
pciio(J^^^^indergarten,  with  its  gentle  adapta- 
is  to'^rawwwl  requirements,  the  mother  knows 
other  pang. 

trative  into  an      _^ 

^r.~*^~^e  has  her  little  private 

quiet  and  orderly  home, 

though  this  pain  has 


\they  can  do  wit 
r  of  mourning 
first 


>chi|^4?en  are  taking  their  ini- 
""  ndent  existence,   in  which 


Its  alleviation. 

ture,  dwarfed  in  body  or  mind,  to  have  them 
linger  in  childhood's  land  of  enchantment  beyond 
the  term  of  childish  years,  is  to  know  the  one  in- 
sufferable torture,  that  even  faith  can  with  difii- 
culty  accept,  that  love  can  scarcely  console. 

Our  children  are  in  process  of  imperceptible 
but  swift  change  from  one  day  to  another.     The 
amazing  progress  made  by  an  infant  in  the  first 
two  years  of  life,  when  he  learns  to  walk,  to  talk, 
to  use  feet  and  hands,  to  be  polite,  to  do  as  he 
is  told,   is  the  most  extraordinary  achievement 
ever  seen  among  men.     At  no  future  stage  is  so 
much  compressed  into  so  short  a  time.     Whether 
or  not  mothers  appreciate  it,   these  baby   days, 
when  the  trend  is  giveii  for  all  the  coming  life,  are 
of  unsurpassed  opportunity  and  importance.     Im-     ^ 
pressions,  when  made,  are  enduring.     Good  man-^^^ 
ners,  good  temper,  a  good  conscience,  the  courtli 
ness  of  the  gentleman,  the  serenity  of  the  ladj 
are  all  in  the  germ  stage,  while  the  little  one 
reaching  up   from   babyland   to   the   busy  yea^ 
beyond.    At  seven,  the  child  is  formed  for  seven- 
teen, twenty-seven,  and  every  comius:  decade  to 
seventy.     Neglect  nothing  no^ 

[83] 


said  a  peerlessly  beautiful  young  mother,  "  to 
my  family ;  to  having  my  children,  and  bringing 
them  up.  Nothing  else  with  me  can  take  prece- 
dence of  this  work.     It  is  my  duty." 

"Do  you  include  having  them  in  the  duty?" 
was  asked,  and  the  answer  came,  joyously,  "  Yes, 
indeed.    I  have  set  my  heart  on  a  houseful." 
"And  you  can  resign  society?" 
"  Yes,  for  the  time,  I  resign  it  with  joy." 
The  question  of  the  larger  or  the  smaller  family 
has  too  many  aspects  to  be  dismissed  in  a  para- 
graph or  a  chapter.     Where  the  rapid  increase  of 
a  family  robs  the  mother  of  vitality  and  ages  her 
prematurely,  the  price  is  too  costly,  and  the  sac- 
rifice too  great.     In  other  words,  it  is  better  that 
two  or  three  children  should  have  a  mother  whose 
health  and  strength  are  equal  to  their  demands 
her,  than  that  six  or  seven  should  be  thrown 
the  care  of  an  invalid,  fading  away  at  the 
lent  when  they  will  need  her  most,  and  after 
lile  taxing  the  love  of  a  stepmother.     As  a 
the  mother  should  have  a  sufficient  interval 
?rths  of  her  children,  to  enable  her 
Physical  tone,  and  to  insure  to  her 

[84] 


the  power  of  entire  recuperation.  Unless  children 
are  born  in  too  rapid  succession,  each  little  one 
renews  the  health  and  beauty  of  the  mother. 
At  forty-five,  the  wife  who  has  brought  up  a  large 
family  often  looks  younger  and  handsomer  than 
she  who  has  had  no  children  at  all.  Her  babies 
have  kept  her  beautiful. 

It  is  the  due  of  children  to  have  certain  educa- 
tional advantages.  A  poor  man,  struggling  with 
limited  means,  may  well  consider  whether  he  has 
the  right  to  have  a  large  family,  when  he  can  with 
difficulty  and  encumbering  hardship  support  a 
small  one.  Every  father  and  mother  must  make 
the  personal  election,  the  personal  decision,  for 
children  must  have  bread  and  butter,  shoes  and 
stockings,  frocks  and  jackets,  books  and  school- 
ing, and  as  they  grow  older,  their  needs  grow 
more  relentless.  Observation  shows,  howev 
that  where  people  trust  God,  and  are  not  afr 
to  have  the  children  He  sends  them,  the  means 
generally  adequate  to  the  wants.  The  sweet 
story  of  the  cruse  of  oil  that  was  always  repl 
ished.  and  the  barrel  of  meal  that  was  never 
hausted,  is  repeated  in  Iwmes  where  there  is^ery 
little  mon^,  but  a  gre^dealoi-Joffi^aad  wuere 


p  f 


The  Little  Kingdom  of  Home 


children  early  learn  self-denial  and  are  not  irr^ 
danger  of  being  ruined  by  luxury. 

The  young  mother,  at  the  outset,  should  not 
forget,  that,  though  a  mother,  she  is  still  a  wife, 
a  daughter,  and  a  member  of  society.  In  her 
absorption,  she  sometimes  lets  the  tiny  dependent 
creature  whose  dimpled  fingers  so  clasp  her  heart- 
strings, take  larger  privileges  than  belong  to  him. 
The  father,  spending  lonely  evenings  in  the  sit- 
ig-room,  while  the  mother  lingers  up-stairs  with 
le  baby,  wonders  that  the  little  invader  can  so 
the  entire  landscape.  Jenny  never  gives  the 
more  than  half  attention.  She 
'leisure.  The  baby  has  temporarily 
her  perspective.  She  ceases  to  realize 
Dne  else  has  the  shadow  of  a  claim  upon 
)rt  of  intoxicating  joy  of  possession  fills 

ile,  the  conditions  are  reversed, 

e  fathe^jwhogxceeds  the  mother  in  an 

nteres^^^^^^^ildren,  throwing  other 

\)  the  fe^iPS^i^  no  moment.     "  John 

-were  nothing  to  him  except  as  I  am 

er,"  cQmpl^ii|ed  a  young  wife,  with 

She  found  ner  conversation  unap- 

[86] 


preciated,  her  wishes  disregarded,  and  the  on< 
consideration  of  paramount  importance,  her  boy. 
"  I  take  no  risks  with  my  son,"  exclaimed  her  lord, 
as  he  debated  each  point,  and  watched  with  eager, 
almost  feverish  solicitude,  every  variation  of  the 
child's  health,  every  cadence  of  his  voice,  every 
hour  of  his  little  life,  A  man  may  occasionally 
be  jealous  of  his  wife's  devotion  even  to  his  child  : 
a  mother's  love  admits  no  jealousy,  yet  it  is  not 
for  a  wife's  happiness  that  she  shall  be  treated 
as  a  mere  adjunct  to  her  son.  The  attitude  is 
Oriental,  and  savors  of  the  races  with  whom 
wifely  dignity  is  trampled  underfoot,  and  woman 
is  regarded  as  the  mere  shadow  of  her  husband ; 
his  slave  or  his  plaything,  becoming  of  conse- 
quence only  when  she  bears  him  sons. 

The   ideal   household   is   composed   of   father^,^^ 
mother,  girls  and  boys,  but  the  primitive  noti, 
that  the  latter  are  to  be  preferred  to  the  form 
is  less  frequently  met  than  of  old.    The  man 
should  treat  his  wife  with  chill  disapproval, 
refuse  to  cherish  her,  because  she  had  borne 
several  daughters  in  succession,  \yhen  his  heai 
was  set  on  a  son  to  transmit 'Itrs^iii^ily 
may  be  found  in  Bombay  or  Calcutta.    Tii 


been  when  he  appeared  in  Boston  and  New  York." 
The  manifest  and  unspeakable  injustice  of  con- 
demning a  mother  for  the  unwelcome  sex  of  her 
child  can  be  discovered,  let  us  hope,  at  this  day, 
in  heathen  lands  only,  not  where  Christ's  love 
and  His  grace  have  forever  exalted  womanhood, 
and  made  girls  the  home's  peculiar  treasure. 

The  mother  of  eight  daughters  said  happily  one 
day,  "  I  thank  God  for  them  every  one.  I  thank 
Him  when  I  think  of  the  home-makers  I  am 
training."  Sons  or  daughters,  our  children 
should  be  received  with  gratitude  in  the  spirit 
of  the  bard  of  Israel,  who,  centuries  before  Christ 
was  born  in  Bethlehem  of  Judea,  sang: 

"  Except  the  Lord  build  the  house  their  labour 
is  but  lost  that  build  it. 

Except  the  Lord  keep  the  city  the  watchman 
aketh  but  in  vain. 

It  is  but  lost  labour  that  ye  haste  to  rise  so 

and  so  late  take  rest,  and  eat  the  bread  of 

efulness;   for  so  He  giveth  His  beloved  sleep. 

Lo,  children,  and  the  fruit  of  the  womb,  are 

hexiissat^nd  gift  that  cometh  of  the  Lord. 

e  arrows  in  the  hand  of  a  giant, 
young  children. 

[88] 


Happy  is  the  man  that  has  his  quiver  full  of- 
them.  They  shall  not  be  ashamed  when  they 
speak  with  their  enemies  in  the  gate." 

In  the  morning  world,  in  Palestine,  Abyssinia, 
Greece  and  Rome,  the  lack  of  children  was  con- 
sidered a  great  misfortune,  if  not  a  dire  calamity, 
and  no  woman  w^as  so  pitied  as  was  she  who  had 
no  offspring.  Gradually  the  point  of  view  has 
changed,  and  it  is  an  especially  latter-day  char- 
acteristic, and  one  to  be  deplored,  that  there  are 
those  who  care  more  about  the  chairs  and  tables, 
the  sofas  and  divans  of  the  house,  more  for  recre- 
ation and  luxurious  ease  and  social  display,  than 
for  the  melody  of  the  little  voices,  and  the  clinging 
of  the  little  arms,  and  the  kisses  of  rosebud  lips. 

One  wishes  that  people  had  more  leisure  to 
enjoy  their  children.     The  pressure  of  business 
and    professional    engagements    so    hurries    t 
father,  that  he  has  small  chance  to  know  his 
and  girls,  and  the  conscientious  mother  is  so 
tent  on  discipline  that  she  often  misses  the  sw^ 
est  relationship  a  mother  can  have,  that  of 
assured  and  unbroken  confidence  of  her  gro\^ng 
children 

.^W^U:   .v-::Oi^,  IZ/^^^C^     ■^^"l^S^ 

sacred 


At  least  one  hour  in  i^^ery  alysnbuld 


to  the  little  children  in  every  home ;  for  the  father 
an  hour  of  frolic  and  story-telling,  for  the  mother, 
the  precious  before-bedtime  hour,  when  she  may 
hear  the  children's  story  of  their  day,  listen  to 
their  prayers,  and  say  good-night  as  she  leaves 
them  to  the  watching  care  of  the  angels. 


[91] 


\K 


^^1 


M 


I 


^  A  S  our  children  see  us,  we  are  beings  whosi 
"^^  word  is  law,  whose  knowledge  is  profoundT/^ 
whose  power  is  unbounded.  Do  they  see  us,  one 
day,  with  eyes  opened  with  wonder,  when  we 
prove  less  than  they  had  supposed,  when  we  do 
not  illustrate  to  them  the  nobility  of  parenthood? 
Precept  is  right  in  home-training.  Example  is, 
however,  much  more  potential  than  precept. 


[92] 


The    Training   of    Children 


THREE  essentials  are  to  be  held  before  the 
mind,  in  the  bringing  up  of  children,  and 
with  these  kept  steadily  in  the  fore- 
ground, almost  everything  else  may  be  left  to 
develop  as  a  plant  does  in  the  air  and  sunshine 
without  anxiety.  Heredity  strongly  influences 
the  children's  unfolding,  as  they  emerge  from  the 
earlier  and  dependent  stage  to  the  plane  of  re- 
sponsibility and  self-management.  Environment 
and  atmosphere  have  even  more  influence  than 
heredity  in  the  making  of  a  man  or  woman. 
Given  a  house  where  love  is  the  fulfilling  of  the 
law,  and  children  are  encompassed  with  affection  > 
from  the  outset,  and  there  will  be  little  dang^ 
of  the  home's  subsequent  disappointment  in  its 
children. 

The  cardinal  points  in  child-training  are  obc 
dience,  truth,  and  honor.    Many  parents  make  tl 
fundamental   mistake  of  insisting  on  obedie^fe, 
in  an  arbitrary  and  unji 


The  Little  Kingdom  of  Home 


ancy  that  their  will  must  be  supreme,  and  their^ 
authority  unquestioned,  without  any  reference 
to  the  child's  personality.  "  Do  this  or  do  that 
because  I  say  so,"  these  despotic  parents  exclaim, 
and  think  they  are  in  the  right  and  cannot  be  gain- 
said. Injustice  in  the  nursery  is  a  greater  crime 
than  injustice  elsewhere,  because  the  victims  are 
Lilliputians,  lifting  up  arms  in  vain  against  those 
who  are  their  superiors  in  size,  strength,  age, 
nd  experience. 

oing  back  to  the  eighteenth  century  and  the 

rlier  part  of  the  nineteenth,  a  rigid  sternness 

ained  in  the  home  life  of  good  people.     Fred- 

ca  Bremer^and  her  sisters  were  never  allowed 

.   sit  in /fM^presence  of  their  father  and  mother. 

riie  chi|d/en  of  Jonathan  Edwards  and  his  wife 

ays  rose  when  their  parents  entered  a  room, 

o(l  until  their  elders  were  seated.     Early 

1  diaries  of  men  eminent  for  worth  and 

ic  services^  and  doubtless  amiable  in  private 

contain  such  (fl^^<9r^»^s  these :    "  I  whipped 

nny  thjs  morning  for  misbehavior  in  prayer- 

"  Punished^ary^lizabeth  severely  for 

)^dPj^.  J^i  was  4hen  thought  indispensable 

,  tVie  projxjr  training  of  a  child  that  there  should 

[94] 


The  Training  of  Children 


)e  one  or  more  mighty  conflicts,  when  some  trifle 
was  squarely  brought  to  an  issue,  and  a  worn-out 
parent  contended  with  an  equally  worn-out  child, 
perhaps  for  hours,  till  the  latter  yielded  and 
obeyed  from  sheer  exhaustion.  This  was  called 
breaking  the  will.  When  one  thinks  of  it,  no 
more  infamous  injury  can  be  done  to  a  human 
being  than  to  break  its  most  regal  endowment, 
the  will,  given  it  by  God,  not  to  be  broken,  but 
to  be  guided. 

A  little  chap,  seven  years  old,  refusing  to  obey 
some  mandate  of  his  parents,  was  alternately 
punished  by  each,  the  contest  extending  over  half 
a  day.  When,  at  last,  he  had  done  the  thing 
required,  his  father  said :  "  Now,  Eddie,  do  you 
not  feel  sorry  you  have  been  so  naughty,  and  wish 
you  had  not  made  us  so  much  trouble?  "  "  No," 
said  the  honest  little  fellow,  "  I  don't  feel  sorry, 
and  I  did  not  make  the  trouble.  I  think  you  an(l.  ;• 
mother,  who  are  so  big  and  strong,  are  very  mean 
to  fie:ht  with  a  little  bov  like  me. 

Fifty  years  earlier,  the  child's  frankness  won 
have  brought  him  another  and  severer  chastise- 
ment, but  the  parents,  to  whom  he^|poke,  looked    /^ 
at  one  another,  and  each  read  i\^X>^yi&%onghl];^ 

[95] 


•fp.^vf^ 


:P 


The  Little  Kingdom  of  Home 


£' 


the  child  had  right  on  his  side.     They  had  taken^ 
the  wrong  way  to  gain  his  obedience. 

Some  one  will  ask,  can  obedience  be  taught 
and  enforced  without  penalty,  without  friction, 
without  the  infliction  of  pain?  Surely,  if  the 
parent's  own  state  of  mind  and  body  be  serene 
and  well  balanced,  with  every  faculty  in  poise, 
and  if  the  habitual  tone  of  the  parent's  thought 
is  submission  of  will  to  the  Heavenly  Father.  Our 
children  must  obey,  not  because  we  say  so,  but 
because  God  says  so.  His  commandment,  "Honor 
thy  father  and  mother,"  is  binding  on  the  race, 
and  if  we  consciously  live  serving  and  obeying 
Him,  we  have  the  privilege  of  exacting  similar 
obedience  from  our  little  ones  to  us  as  His  repre- 
sentatives. 

In  the  first  nebulous  dawn  of  intelligence,  when 
baby  eyes  begin  to  notice  and  know  those  around 
'N^  them,  when  baby  fingers  learn  to  clasp  and  cling. 
when  baby  wilfulness  begins  to  assert  itself  and 
%■:  indicate  individuality,  the  teaching  of  obedience 
^Ijould  also  begin.  Long  before  the  first  year 
ha^' passed  away,  the  infant  may  learn  that  the 
tSIeU^jng^>c^^^e  mother's  gentle  "  No  "  is  an  in- 


-r^v^  flexitime  i 


he  child  will  obey  from  instinct. 

[96] 


i  For  very  young  creatures  of  every  kind  some  sort 
of  punishment  may  be  necessary,  as  a  rivet  to 
attention,  but  this  punishment  need  never  be 
harsh.  Small  meddhng  hands  that  have  forgotten 
orders  may  be  tied.  Persistently  naughty  chil- 
dren may  be  put  to  bed  in  the  daytime,  or  de- 
prived of  a  toy  or  a  dainty.  It  is  the  absolute  cer- 
tainty of  a  penalty,  and  not  its  severity,  that  acts 
as  a  deterrent  from  disobedience  on  the  part  of 
a  little  culprit. 

A  child  who  is  accustomed  to  implicit  obe- 
dience is  far  safer  at  critical  times  than  his  little 
companion  who  has  never  had  this  fortunate 
training.  For  example,  an  obedient  child,  when 
ill,  takes  medicine  without  a  struggle,  while  the 
one  unused  to  doing  as  he  is  told  refuses  the 
pill  or  the  potion,  adds  to  his  fever  by  the  struggle, 
and  possibly  endangers  his  life.  It  is  well  that 
in  the  person  of  father  or  mother  should 
vested  that  unfaltering  power  of  control,  wl 
will  induce  ready  compliance  in  illness,  as; 
health ;  the  presence  of  a  decision  that  will  not 
turned  aside.  Every  young  child  should  be  tauj 
by  gentleness  to  obey  some  one.    The  future 


7^^]. 


r;^ 


T/ie  Little  Kingdom  of  Home 


7^ 

and  law-abiding  citizen  is  in  process  of  evolutionr^ 
in  the  nursery  to-day. 

A  little  Scottish  lad  was  very  ill,  and  very 
fractious,  and  when  the  doctor  left  a  nauseous 
but  remedial  draught,  he  fought  against  it  so 
stubbornly  that  his  mother  sat  down  and  wept. 

"  Dinna  greet,  mither,  dinna  greet,"  piped  up 
a  little  thin  voice  from  the  pillow.  "  Feyther'll 
be  hame  sune,  and  he'll  gar  me  tak  it." 

A  fire  broke  out  in  a  tall  apartment-house  in 
great  city.     Retreat  from  within  was  cut  off 
all  on  the  upper  floors,  and  those  who  were 
the  mercy  of  the  dooming  flames  at  the  dizzy 
ight  of  the-fixth  floor  had  to  climb  down,  on 
wintej^^T^ay,  through  blinding  snow,  step  by 
by  tne  perpendicular  ladder  which  was  the 
escape. 
Vj'Two  little  lads,  of  eight  and  five,  whose  blessed 
bit  it  was  to  obey  their  mother  instantly  and 
rthout  parley,  descended  the  fire-stairway  with- 
t  accident  or  tefttj_^^  an  emergency  of  any 
nd,  it  is  well  0r  ^?m^  to  lean  on  the  judg- 
ment of  parents  and  teaejifers,  and  to  do  as  they 
are  directed,  not  wasting  time  in  argument  or 
o^PJ-^^atio^jjsj^  Ajt_:^rtain   times,   a   child 

[98] 


ay  inquire,  "  Why  must  I  do  this,  or  not  do' 
the  other  thing?"  and  the  mother  may  appro-- 
priately  answer,  as  a  matter  of  courtesy,  just  as 
she  would  reply  to  any  of  her  own  age.  But  it 
should  not  be  the  rule  of  the  household  that  the 
children  should  ask  and  the  mother  respond,  when 
it  is  a  question  of  obeying  orders.  The  efficiency 
of  an  army  corps  depends  on  the  quick  response 
of  each  member  to  the  officer  in  command,  and  the 
peace  of  a  home  depends  on  its  complete  organiza- 
tion, its  smooth-working  order,  and  the  obedience 
of  its  members  to  its  chief.  Implicit  obedience 
from  children  to  parents  is  the  ideal  requirement, 
because  it  fulfills  the  divine  law,  and  because  it 
builds  strong  character  on  a  firm  foundation. 

"  Children  obey  your  parents  in  the  Lord,  for 
this  is  right."    But  control  should  not  be  secured 
by  the  exercise  of  arbitrary  power,  tyrannically^,^«^^^ 
displayed.     The  children  of  tyrants,  when  gra^ 
uated  in  the  college  of  time,  are  rebels  or  we? 
lings. 

One  is  sometimes  amazed  to  see  families,  wh< 
a  rigid  discipline  has  always  prevailed,  turn 
badly  in  manhood.    Their  home  was  so  perfectly 

j^^ey  wer^ 

[99] 


administered,  their  father  was  ser-^, 


^ 


The  Little  Kingdom  of  Home 


so  guarded  and  sheltered  from  evil,  that  it  is  an 
astonishment  to  find  them  wandering  from  the 
straight  path,  when  they  have  the  responsibility 
for  their  own  actions  in  their  hands.  Is  not 
the  secret  easily  read,  in  the  fact  that  harshness 
breeds  cowardice,  and  that  those  who  lean  for- 
ever on  the  will  of  others  learn  no  strength  of 
moral  resistance  themselves? 

To  meet  the  multitudinous  temptations  of  the 
world,  the  home  equipment  should  be  so  thor- 
ough that  it  fits  the  soldier  with  sword  and  shield. 
In   childhood,    the    little    soldier    encounters   the 
world   in   miniature.      The   schoolroom   and   the 
playground  furnish  the  first  arena.     To  so  bring 
up  a  child  that  he  is  armed  at  every  point  of 
attack  is  a  duty  no  parent  may  shirk.    Principles 
must    be    planted,    convictions    rooted,    beliefs 
taught  while  the  mind  is  receptive.     The  custom 
conformity  to  law  must  be  established  then. 
e  men  go  wrong  in  later  life  through  lack 
parental    oversight    in    the    formative   years, 
ey  belong  to  the  illiterate  and  poverty-crushed 
clhss,   and  neither  they  nor  their  parents  have 
(^vS^  haekafe^blessing  of  rich  opportunity.     But, 
^\i   from|lt^w^Bfe  of  the  well-taught  and  well-bred, 

[loo] 


'men  go  wrong,  because  of  over-training  and  mis- 
taken government  in  childhood. 

I  have  said  enough  to  show  that  I,  at  least,  dis- 
approve of  all  harshness  in  the  home;  that  I 
would  banish  both  the  actual  rod  and  the  flail  of 
unkind  words;  that  I  believe  in  love  as  the  most 
potential  influence  in  shaping  character.  Let  me 
add  that  I  do  not  believe  in  weakness,  nor  in 
foolish  indulgence,  nor  in  the  sort  of  vacillating 
and  unstable  government  which  swings  the  pen- 
dulum first  in  one  direction,  then  in  another,  until 
the  child  is  bewildered.  And  I  do  believe  in 
obedience  as  a  foundation-stone  in  the  building  of 
strong  characters. 

Next  in  order  comes  the  quality  of  truth.  Un- 
less one's  veracity  be  unimpeachable,  no  trust  can 
be  placed  in  his  word,  and  when  one's  word  is  a 
broken  reed,  one  is  untrustworthy  all  througl 
Children  have  a  claim  on  us  in  this  particular  vir 
tue.  It  is  their  alienable  right  to  be  so  treated  a 
so  taught  that  truth  will  be  their  natural  impul 
and  falsehood  an  impossibility.  A  child  shoul, 
never  know  that  there  is  a  lie  in  the  world. 

Unfortunately,  in  mostfepmes  eye;"y  imaginable 
device  to  make  children^SlOTS^F^ttiuehi  Jnto 


requisition  except  the  right  one.  Living  in  a 
crystalhne  atmosphere  of  sincerity,  no  child  will 
have  the  impulse  to  deceive.  Speak  truth  only, 
simply,  and  directly.  Keep  your  word  with  ac- 
curacy to  the  last  degree  of  literalness  as  to  prom- 
ise, pledge,  or  threat,  scorn  in  your  daily  practice 
and  daily  speech  evasions  and  exaggerations,  and 
believe  what  your  children  say.  If  a  child  ap- 
)roaches  you  with  a  startling  statement,  accept  it 
detly  and  without  remark.  A  child  will  neither 
nor  prevaricate  if  neither  frightened  nor 
;)ubted.  Sensitive  and  timid  children  are  often 
ished  intolying  as  a  sort  of  temporary  breast- 
work a^iTist  dreaded  scolding  or  shaming.  If 
fjreason  to  doubt  the  word  of  a  child, 
that  the  word  cannot  be  accepted,  then 
Ion  is  serious,  and  the  offender  should 
^>fi:Qm  confidence  until  his  or  her  con- 
a  proc^of  reformation.  Let  such  a  culprit 
^e  sho^^'n  that  society-^oukl  not  go  on  if  men  and 
^men  were  unworthy  of  trust.  Let  the  Bible, 
^ich,  in  Christian  homes,  is  the  court  of  supreme 
'e^l,  be  searched  for  texts  to  disclose  God's 
:ipin:on  of  thi^^^ilw^4j«r-%s  declarations  on  this 


ubject  are  imperative  and  straightforward.    As 

W      [102] 


one  would  relentlessly  use  the  surgeon's  knife 
to  remove  a  spreading  malady,  not  otherwise  to 
be  cured,  so,  with  regret,  if  need  be,  the  parent 
should  in  some  way  punish  the  child  who  wilfully 
or  maliciously  tells  a  lie.  It  is  the  only  kindness 
possible.  The  soul  must  be  cleansed  of  that 
plague,  even  at  the  cost  of  some  pain,  and  the 
parent's  pain  should  not  be  concealed.  But  be 
sure,  before  proceeding  to  extreme  measures,  that 
a  lie  has  been  told,  that  the  child  has  not  been 
misinformed  or  mistaken.  More  than  mere  cir- 
cumstantial evidence  should  be  asked  for,  before 
a  child  is  branded  as  a  teller  of  falsehoods.  The 
chief  use  of  punishment  is  to  gain  and  hold  at- 
tention. 

Little  children  often  relate  wonderful  fairy- 
stories  which  have  not  the  slightest  literal  founda- ,. 
tion.  The  incidents  simply  never  happened.  Ye|' 
a  blue-eyed  darling,  with  innocence  shining  in  her 
flowerlike  face  and  candor  stamped  on  her  baby 
forehead,  will  tell  you  of  people  she  has  met,  of 
dangers  she  has  escaped,  of  gifts  she  has  received, 
until  you  stare  at  her  in  surprise,  knowing  not 
what  to  think.  For  you  have  forgotten,  in  the 
prosaic  realm  of  grown-up  land,  that  "  heaven 

[103] 


ies  about  us  in  our  infancy,"  that  "  trailing 
clouds  of  glory  do  we  come."  Imagination,  that 
Hans  Andersen  called  "  a  leaf  from  the  sky,"  has 
its  magic  sway  over  us  in  the  days  of  childhood. 
Far  be  it  from  the  judicious  mother  to  curb  or 
check  the  play  of  fancy  which  allows  the  little 
child  to  live  in  "  a  house  of  dreams."  From  this 
roseate  glow,  the  step,  alas!  will  be  a  short  one 
to  the  table-land  where  the  mists  roll  away,  and 
the  child  sees  things  as  they  are. 

The  little  dramas  and  stories,  which  seem  to  be 
enacted  on  the  mimic  stage  and  seem  to  the  child 
to  be  realities,  will  never  so  much  as  flaw  his 
or  her  white  ideal  of  truth  in  the  years  to  come. 
But  you  and  I  may  flaw  it,  by  our  hypocrisies, 
our  social  insincerities,  our  assumptions  of  cor- 
diality in  the  presence  of  those  whom  we  criticize 
^n^^heir  absence,  our  brazen  impositions  that 
make ^ the  recording  angel  sigh, 

ery  important  part  of  child-training  is  that 
•h  has   to   do   with   honor.     Naturally,   this 
springs  from  truth,  and  may  be  considered  truth's 
^  finest  efflpr^ej^ce. 
^    In  an  age  which  is  insistently  commercial  and 


[104] 


msely  material,  we  a 
the  essence  of  knightliness,  the  flower  of  courtesy, 
the  perfume  of  a  noble  gallantry.  In  our  ardor 
for  gain  we  sometimes  sacrifice  that  which  is 
back  of  all  financial  profit,  and  so  we  find  the 
anomaly  of  men  who  are  honest,  who  pay  their 
debts,  but  who  are  corroded  through  and  through 
with  the  rust  of  greed.  They  flaunt  the  low 
motive,  not  seeing  it  as  a  badge  of  disgrace. 

"  Getting  and  spending,  we  lay  waste  our  powers." 

If  we  would  have  the  home  life  ideally  har- 
monious, we  must  cultivate  in  it  a  devotion  to 
spiritual,  as  higher  than  material,  ends.  We  must 
teach  our  children  patience  with  the  weak,  for- 
bearance with  the  old,  a  delicate  thoughtfulness 
toward  the  helpless  and  infirm,  tenderness  to  the 
halt  and  the  blind  and  the  deaf,  and  an  instinctiv 
deference  to  the  opinions  of  those  who  are  supe" 
rior  by  reason  of  age,  position,  or  station.  Re^ 
erence  is  fast  becoming  a  lost  quality  in  t 
American  home.  Boys  and  girls  are  self-assert 
ive  and  contradictory  to  the  point  of  brutali 
the  meek  and  the  low- voiced  ffo  to  the  wall  in  the 


babel  of  emphatic  tongues.  All  this  directly  assails 
honor,  and  stamps  home  life  with  degeneracy. 

Honor,  too,  needs  to  be  instilled  in  the  matter 
of  property  rights.  Where  children  are  carefully 
and  punctiliously  trained  in  reference  to  money, 
shown  that  borrowing  is  perilous,  and  that  there 
must  be  a  minute  and  fastidious  care  about  pennies 
that  are  not  one's  own,  there  will  not  be  much 
ganger  of  dishonest  appropriation  of  others'  funds 
>later  life. 

A  caution  needed  by  some  parents  is  not  to  be 

obviously  educational  in  the  presence  of  ac- 

laintances   ^d     friends.       The    conscientious 

is  always  disciplining  and  correcting 

1   in   public   is   an   object   of   dread 

of  those  who  are  forced  to  witness 

lous  endeavors.     No  child  should  be 

strangers,  or  in  the  midst  of  the 

^of   should   be   given   in   private. 

.do  more  for  our  chil- 

force  or  sternness. 

:hildren  dwell  is  pleas- 

lelnhabited  by  ill-trained, 

j^en  is  a  place  to  shun. 

life  is  the  part  into 


which  outsiders  do  not  enter,  the  mother  must 
find  her  opportunity  here,  and  so  bring  up  her 
children  that  they  will  need  no  admonition  in 
public. 


[107] 


[i09] 


'HE  pity  of  it,  that  in  so  brief  a  life  ther^ 
should  be  so  much  of  irksome  bondage,  that^ 
is  wholly  without  occasion  or  defence. 


[no] 


Bricks  without  Straw 


MORE  real  misery  is  caused  by  a  mis- 
taken and  stupid  theory  of  domestic 
finance  than  by  any  other  occasion  in 
the  world.  The  ancient  Egyptians,  at  the  height 
of  their  oppression  of  their  Hebrew  slaves,  fur- 
nished a  pertinent  phrase  for  modern  literature. 
The  Hebrews  were  hated  aliens,  and  were  made 
to  build  massive  works,  which  stand  in  the  desert 
to  this  day.  And  they  were  bidden  to  make 
bricks  without  straw. 

The  fierce  taskmasters,  in  their  rigorous  exac- 
tions, insisted  that  their  workmen  should  do  un- 
paid piece-work,  but  refused  to  supply  them  with 
the  materials  for  the  job.  Despotism  never  hi 
a  more  extreme  illustration,  nor  was  cruelty  mc 
refined. 

In  thousands  and  tens  of  thousands  of  mod< 
homes  a  similar  injustice  is  constantly  perpetrat 
not  on  slaves,  but  on  loved  ones,  and  it  is  ne\^ 
every  morning  and  fresh  evepp^-^QMbMte".  Ador^ 

[III] 


The  Little  Kingdom  of  Home 


ing  husbands  do  not  hesitate  to  inflict  upon 
their  beloved  wives  a  needless  humiliation, 
amounting,  in  the  experience  of  supersensitive 
women,  to  suffering  which  is  almost  torture.  The 
woman  does  not  live  who  enjoys  asking  her  hus- 
band for  money,  and  rendering  to  him  an  account 
of  the  way  in  which  she  spends  what  he  gives  her, 
whether  he  pour  it  generously  into  her  lap,  or  dole 
it  grudgingly  from  his  pocket,  openly  wonder- 
ing why  her  purse  is  so  often  empty,  and  openly 
discussing  her  economy  or  her  lack  of  the  same. 
Men  seldom  suspect  how  deeply  ingrained  in 
women's  souls  is  the  aversion  to  being  simply 
licensed  mendicants.  If  they  did,  they  would, 
in  the  language  of  Scripture,  abhor  themselves 
and  repent,  if  not  in  dust  and  ashes,  at  least  in 
such  wise  that  an  entire  change  of  conditions 
would  speedily  ensue.     A  good  man  means  to 

just,  if  not  magnanimous. 

'here  is  no  reason  why,  in  the  family  firm,  the 
)and  should  claim  and  maintain  the  sole  right 

disburse  the  family  income,  while  the  wife 
tolerated  pensioner  on  his  bounty.    Naturally, 

^e^<yifia^^h  of  labor  which  marriage  and  the 
manUe^W^ftffef  the  home  entail,  the  man  is  the 

[112] 


breadwinner  and  the  woman  in  the  house  the->^^j 
administrator.  His  province  is  to  be  occupied 
with  the  world,  and,  by  the  sweat  of  his  brow 
or  the  toil  of  his  hands,  to  procure  the  means  of 
subsistence.  Her  function  is  to  receive  what  her 
husband  earns  and  use  it  for  the  advantage  of 
their  united  home.  Where  the  right  notion  of 
home  management  has  taken  root,  there  will  never 
be  jarring  or  discord  over  money.  It  wall  be 
regarded  as  the  means  of  comfort,  of  honest  in- 
dependence, and  of  provision  for  the  rainy  day 
and  for  old  age.  Only  those  who  have  studied 
the  subject  and  observed  its  application  in  many 
homes,  from  that  of  the  millionaire  to  the  poorest 
day  laborer,  know  how  necessary  is  a  reform  in 
this  one  particular.  Mistaken  domestic  finance 
wrecks  home  happiness. 

Women  may  live  in  palaces,  wear  rich  raime 
and  fare  sumptuously,  yet  seldom  have  any  rea( 
money,  or  the  least  liberty  to  spend  or  give  awj 
or  invest  a  dollar  of  their  own,  being  treated 
their  lives  as  if  they  were  irresponsible  childrer 
In  the  event  of  the  death  of  the  husband  or  fatl 
such  women  are  often  at  the  mercy  of  unscrt 
lous  advisers,  who  find  them  an  easy 


>t'-'3]. 


<J> 


The  Little  Kingdom  of  Home 


of  their  inexperience.     If,  in  the  natural  reactioiT 
that  comes  with  freedom,  they  spend  fooHshly  in- 
stead of  saving  wisely,  when  once  they  have  the 
control  of  the  money,  who  can  wonder? 

It  is  not  an  unheard-of  thing  for  the  wife  of  a 
rich  man,  permitted  to  have  running  accounts  at 
stores  and  to  accumulate  bills  which  her  husband 
examines  and  pays,  to  lack  small  change  for  car- 
fares and  tips  to  the  drivers  of  cabs  and  hansoms. 
[n  reality,  the  women  most  favorably  situated 
^r  their  own  ease  and  contentment  are  the  wives 
[f  mechanics  and  day  laborers  and  factory  opera- 
tes, to  whom  the  week's  wages  are  regularly 
rought  miruiS  the  small  sum  the  man  keeps  for 
lis  owtf^^rposes.  When  these  men  are  caught 
mieshes  of  the  saloon,  their  wives  are,  of 
!rfe,  the  sufferers,  and  their  children  as  well, 
it  the  custom  of  the  class  is  based  on  a  larger 
le  other  custom,  which  makes  the 
idisputed  lord  of  the  exchequer.   A 


artner  Th  busmess,  not  an  unpaid  hire- 


her  married  life,  she 

yp  this  question  of  money 

of   the   honeymoon.. 


Certainly  it  seldom  crops  up  in  the  romantic  con-^^j 
versations  of  engaged  people  before  marriage,' 
althought  it  would  not  be  a  bad  plan  if  some  dis- 
tinct understanding  on  the  subject  could  be 
reached  during  betrothal  days. 

Soon  after  marriage  husband  and  wife  should 
have  a  consultation  about  their  joint  resources 
and  the  proper  amount  of  their  outgo  as  pro- 
portioned to  their  income.  Where  the  man  is 
in  receipt  of  a  fixed  salary,  the  matter  is  com- 
paratively simple,  much  more  simple  than  where 
he  is  in  business,  or  a  profession,  straining  every 
nerve  to  increase  his  capital,  and  doing  his  best 
to  build  up  something  which  may  be  a  strong 
dependence  for  the  future. 

No  pair  should  marry  without  having  some- 
thing settled  and  definite  to  live  upon,  and  ap- 
proximately  every  man  may  know  how  much  ho^^^ 
can  probably  afford  to  spend  in  the  various  din 
tions  which  the  home  requires.     So  much  mori! 
must  go,  we  will  say,  for  rent  or  for  taxes  or* 
some  way  for  the  roof  that  shelters  the  famf 
A  certain  sum  must  be  devoted  to  food  and  clot! 
ing.     Something  must  be  set  asi^ 
doctors'  bills  and  medicine, 

["5] 


^y 


The  Little  Kingdom  of  Home 


and  life  insurance,  something  for  the  education 
of  children  and  for  unforeseen  emergencies. 

As  a  rule,  the  husband's  part  is  to  pay  house 
and  pew  rent,  buy  fuel,  and  attend  to  all  outside 
matters,  while  the  wife  supervises  the  catering 
and  marketing,  pays  the  maid,  if  there  is  one, 
and  in  every  possible  way  looks  after  the  indoor 
affairs  of  the  home.  It  is  quite  simple  to  place 
in  her  hand  every  week  a  stipulated  sum  which 
she  may  devote  to  her  share  of  the  joint  work,  this 
sum  being  paid  without  fail  or  delay,  as  often 
as  the  man  receives  his  salary.  No  account  should 
be  rendered,  provided  she  does  not  incur  debt. 
If  her  husband  is  in  a  position  to  have  a  bank- 
account,  he  may  allow  his  wife  a  separate  house- 
hold account  in  her  own  name,  which  she  shall 
independently  control,  the  understanding  being 
that  she  shall  always  leave  a  small  sum  to  the 
d,  so  that  she  may  not  overdraw.  Either,  as 
tter  of  courtesy,  may  tell  the  other  where 
how  the  money  goes. 

very  collector  for  charity,  for  missionary  pur- 
poses, and  for  the  church  knows  full  well  how 
•.,  difficult^''.il('A^'''for   married   women   to   subscribe 
^  without  first  consulting  their  husbands,  and  how 


7^ 


[.i6] 


•  hard  it  is  for  them  to  procure  the  money  they  wish 
to  dispose  of  in  charity.  Tlie  wife  who  either  has 
a  personal  allowance,  or  her  own  share  of  the 
household  money  to  do  with  as  she  pleases,  need 
never  ask  Edward  or  John  for  the  dollar  or  two 
which  she  wishes  to  give  away.  She  is  not  likely 
to  waste  the  money  which  her  husband  toils  hard 
to  earn,  for  she  is  trusted  with  her  share  of  it. 
Besides  this,  women  are  naturally  economical  in 
small  ways. 

All  over  this  land  married  women  are  eagerly, 
wistfully,  and  insistently  seeking  ways  by  which 
they  may  make  money  at  home,  especially  if  they 
have  been  wage-earners  before  marriage,  and  as 
teachers,  artists,  writers,  stenographers,  clerks, 
or  in  any  capacity  have  had  their  own  incomes. 
Such  women  make  comparisons,  and  they  find  it 
unspeakably  disagreeable  to  be  dependent  upc^n\ 
even  loving  husbands  for  the  money  they  requi 
to  keep  house  and  use  in  their  daily  lives.        ^  ,, 

Very  often  women  need  money  for  little  extc^-: 
of  which  they  do  not  care  to  speak.     Somet 
it  is  their  wish  to  go  on  with  a  favorite  stu 
or  to  save  that  they  ma}-  buy  somethino^  f 
adornment  of  the  home,  or,  perha^. 


\/M 


to  lay  something  aside  in  the  bank  for  future 
use.  So  they  cast  about  to  find  what  they  can 
do  in  the  fragments  of  their  time,  and  in  some 
way  reHeve  themselves  of  the  irritating  lack  of 
funds,  which  is  the  modern  equivalent  of  the  old 
story  of  bricks  without  straw. 

Men    would   not   impose   on   their   wives   this 
restriction  that  is  so  hateful  if  once  they  under- 
stood how  irksome  it  becomes.     Exceptional  men 
lo  are  miserly  and  mean  would  not  turn  from 
ieir  course  on  account  of  the  feelings  of  their 
[ves.    To  such  men  it  is  nothing  that  the  women 
names  are  discontented,  or  that 
"^are  shadowed  by  a  baleful  cloud, 
^r   example   an   educated   man   whose 
so  exceedingly  narrow  and  grudging 
^as  warped  all  through.     His  wife,  to 
ted  out  every  meagre  cent,  took  it 
head  to  bestow  upon  him  a  most 
Christ»Ra|4^^^^t.    She  saved  enough 
rough  ^«b^^^^)to  buy  him   a  pretty 
iof  tlie  clay,   pat^tically  taking  to  the 
Is  and  occasional  dimes 
put  aside.     His  re- 
le  saw  the  present  was,  "  I  wish 


you  had  not  wasted  so  much  money  on  such  a 
folderol  as  this.  Do  you  think  the  man  would 
take  it  back  ?  " 

Another  example  is  patent.  A  man,  living  in 
much  elegance  in  a  beautiful  home,  never  allowed 
his  wife  liberty  to  buy  a  pair  of  stockings  for 
one  of  her  children,  or  gloves  for  herself,  for 
fear  she  might  spend  a  few  cents  more  on  the 
purchase  than  he  thought  it  was  worth.  Instances 
of  this  miserliness  can  be  multiplied.  They  are 
outgrowths  in  extreme  of  the  ordinary,  absurd, 
and  mediaeval  narrowing  of  the  purse-strings 
which  obliges  a  wife  to  ask  while  the  husband 
grants.  The  wife  should  have  her  personal  allow- 
ance, or  something  which  amounts  to  the  same. 
The  plan,  once  tried,  will  never  be  abandoned 
by  any  pair  who  prize  the  sweet  tranquillity  o 
a  perfectly  well-rounded  home. 

Women  are  unjustly  accused  of  extra vagan 
when  the  explanation  is  that  they  are  enti 
ignorant  of  their  husband's  means,  or  the  amon.rV" 
it  is  right  for  them  to  spend  on  housekeeping  ai 
dress.     Men  like  to  see  their  wiv^s  beautifully 
dressed,  and  are  themselves  it^^y^^gjjjnl  c^ 
sidering  the  cost  of  materials  and  majcing.    ^ 

["9] 


other  words,  they  are  enacting,  in  this  famiHar 
parable,  the  tale  of  bricks  without  straw. 

Oil  the  other  hand,  there  are  men  who  never 
notice  how  their  wives  look  or  what  they  wear, 
and  who  contentedly  permit  them  to  go  on  dressed 
shabbily  and  in  contrast  with  other  women,  with- 
out a  thought  on  the  matter.     A  bride  once  left 
her  father's  house  with  a  trousseau  sufficient  to 
carry  her  over  many  months.     She  had  gowns, 
hats,   wraps,   and   shoes,   but,   in   the   course   of 
human  events,  even  an  extensive  wardrobe  wears 
out,  and  it  never  occurred  to  her  negligent  husband 
that  his   wife's   might   need   replenishing,   while 
she  was  much  too  proud  to  speak  of  that  about 
which  he  was  silent.     Time  passed,  until  finally 
she  had  neither  shoes  nor  gloves  with  which  to 
appear  in  public.     It  was  only  by  accident  that 
her  mortified  husband  discovered  that  she  was 
,<tiess  comfortably  off  than  the  maids  in  her  kitchen. 
rJt  had  simply  never  occurred  to  him  to  offer  her 
tiey   for  her  personal   expenses,   and   he  had 
epted  her  dainty  toilets  as  if  they  were  a  part 


h  the  growth  of  children,  expenses  in  a 
ly  increase',  and  it  is  wise  for  a  mother  to 


[120] 


have  some  system  of  accounts,  so  that  she  may 
know  which  items  are  largest,  and  where  frugahty 
will  best  serve  the  common  interests.  If  the 
wife  be  her  husband's  business  partner  in  the 
truest  sense,  she  will  never  feel  the  slightest 
sensitiveness  about  discussing  matters  of  house- 
hold management  with  him.  Neither  will  she 
willingly  sacrifice  one  child  for  another,  or  fool- 
ishly do  without  needful  things  that  there  may 
be  superfluities  elsewhere.  If  possible,  husband 
and  wife  will  together  so  plan  that  there  may  be 
a  little  margin  for  the  rainy  day,  for  the  occa- 
sional journey,  or  for  the  trouble  which  arises 
suddenly,  like  a  storm  on  a  summer's  day. 

A  woman  whose  husband  had  accumulated  a 
very  large  fortune,  who  had  everything  around 
her  that  wealth  could  procure,  and  who  was  able 
at  any  moment  to  close  her  home  in  one  large  ci 
and  go  to  another  equally  beautiful  in  a  ci 
across  the  continent,  who  at  pleasure  could 
abroad  or  stay  at  home,  said,  one  day.  ''  The  r 
happiness  of  my  life  was  greatest  in  the  day 
I  lived  in  a  little  five-roomed  cottage,  wher 
did  my  own  work,  and^^watched  John  go 
in  the  morning  to  his  woVk,  aild"  waited  for 


to  come  home  at  night.  Those  were  days  of 
poverty  and  care,  of  saving  every  penny,  and 
thinking  a  long  time  before  buying  a  coveted 
picture  or  curtain,  but  they  were  blessed  days,  and 
the  little  home  was  full  of  love  and  peace.  My 
Imsband  and  I  had  good  times,  and  knew  each 
other's  every  thought."  The  day  of  small  things 
is  not  the  least  desirable  day  in  the  life  of  the 
home.  Sometimes  the  sweet  memory  of  it  awak- 
>s  a  tender  yearning  in  unsatisfied  hearts  long 
ter  it  has  passed  away. 

There  is  revelation  of  the  habitual  penury  of 

Komen  in  tl-v&i  makeshifts  of  which  they  are  not 

hurch  fairs  and  bazaars,  where  the 

eir  fingers  is  sold  to  reluctant  buyers, 

ppers,    for    which    they    despoil    their 

purchase  supplies  which  silently  go  on 

accounts,  and,  most  of  all,  the 

ajolings  by  which  new  hats  and 

usbands  when  they  are 

bncession,  are,  each  and  all, 

mistaken    dependence. 

the  results  are  marked 

ss  friction. 


[i23] 


IE  husband's  function  is  to  earn,  an 
port  his  family.  His  is  the  role  of  bread- 
winner. The  wife's  function  is  that  of  adminis 
tratrix.  Her  province  is  to  save  and  to  spend  for 
the  home's  advantage.  She  is  the  lady  of  the  loaf 
and  cup. 


[1^4] 


CHAPTER  VIII. 


The  Earnings  of  Married  Women 


FIFTY  years  ago  the  field  of  labor  for  fem- 
inine wage-earning  was  exceedingly  re- 
stricted. Only  the  exceptional  woman  ven- 
tured forth  from  the  seclusion  of  her  home  life 
to  engage  in  paid  labor  and  take  a  share  in  the 
world's  work,  and  this  when  she  had  no  mas- 
culine protector.  Unmarried  women  who  were 
self-supporting  found  employment  as  teachers, 
dressmakers,  milliners,  or  servants,  according 
to  their  education  and  social  station.  The  widow 
left  with  children  perhaps  opened  her  home 
to  lodgers,  or  boarders,  but  it  was  an  almost  un- 
heard-of thing  for  a  wife  with  an  able-bodiedN 
husband  at  her  side  to  do  anything  whateve 
toward  her  own  maintenance,  or  that  of  her  fam- 
ily.  Little  by  little  the  situation  has  wid< 
changed,  and  in  the  multiplied  number  of  occupa^ 
tions  now  open  to  women,  many  wives  find  m-\ 
invitation  personally  to  earn  money,  even  th^Mjeh 
husbands  are  furnishing vSwsflfii^-fl^XQi 


come.     They  do  this  without  exciting  commeni 
or  awaking  criticism. 

In  some  cities  stringent  rules  have  been  made 
against  the  continuance  by  married  women  of 
their  work  as  teachers  in  the  pubhc  schools,  on 
the  ground  that  they  have  retained  places  needed 
by  single  woman.  This  has  been  opposed  as  an 
unfair  discrimination,  and  the  sentiment  is  by  no 
means  universal,  so  that  many  women  are  still 
^ound  teaching  after  they  have  changed  their 
liden  for  a  married  name. 
Artists,  journalists,  stenographers,  and  book- 
jepers,  indeed,  professional  women  of  every 
tkeep  straight  on  with  their  work 
Teachers  occasionally  do  the 
cores  of  wives  look  about  them  for 
fwhich  they  may  earn  a  few  dollars  with- 
their  homes,  or  resigning  any  of  their 
js.  A  wife  is  no  longer  singular 
add  to  the  family  income  by  exer- 
^is  no  stigma  upon  her 
to  do  this.    Usage  has 

are    constantly    opening 


The  Earnings  of  Married  JVonien 


^ 


which  permit  women  to  bring  their  delicate  taste 
and  their  talent  for  administration  into  play. 

Nevertheless,  it  is  an  open  question  whether 
or  not  home  completeness  is  best  conserved  by 
the  entrance  of  the  wife  upon  regular  wage-earn- 
ing. If  it  does  not  take  her  from  home,  it  neces- 
sarily absorbs  so  much  of  her  time  and  thought 
that  she  is  unfitted  to  give  her  first  attention,  and 
her  freshest  energy  to  the  legitimate  requirements 
of  the  home.  Her  argument  that  she  may  earn 
her  own  and  her  children's  wardrobe  by  pleasant 
work  which  she  likes,  thus  relieving  her  husband 
of  a  certain  strain,  is  a  specious  one  often  pre- 
sented, and  at  first  sight  has  much  to  commend 
it  to  favor. 

The  wife's  plea  that  she  prefers  to  be  relieved 
of  unwelcome  domestic  drudgery,  and  that  she 
can  afford  to  pay  other  women  to  do  certain 
of  her  housework  while  she  goes  on  with  tl 
profession  or  the  avocation  she  enjoys,  is 
attractive.     The  answer  to  every  line  of  spec 
pleading  is  that  usually  a  simpler  way  of  livfi 
would   be  better,   so  that  the  untired  Avife  an^ 
mother  might  give  freely  of  her  ciwii  personalil 
to  those  nearest  and  dearest 

[127] 


The  Little  Kingdom  of  Home 


may  be  urged,  that  it  is  not  invariably  a  good- 
thing  for  a  husband  to  feel  that  he  can  in  any  way 
depend  upon  the  exertions  of  his  wife  to  supple- 
ment the  income  which  should  be  the  chief  sup- 
port of  the  home  so  long  as  he  is  in  the  fulness  of 
his  powers. 

Broadly  stated  again,  the  man's  function  is  to 
supply  the  means  of  living,  and  the  woman's  to 
administer  and  manage  the  income. 

Husband  and  wife  should  agree  upon  an 
adequate  income,  and  to  use  a  homely  phrase, 
should  then  "  cut  the  garment  according  to  the 
cloth." 

Our    common    temptation    in    America    is    to 
emulate  our  neighbors  by  attempting  to  live  in  a 
style  much  beyond  our  means,  simply  because  they 
have  prettier  things  and  more  of  them  than  we 
.       _       can  afford. 
^    rv^ij^in  the  early  days  of  the  Colonies,  the  wife  of 
i^^ squire,  or  the  judge,  or  the  minister,  wore 
ja<;e,  velvet,  silk,  and  other  rich,  dainty  fabrics 
^d  elaborate  articles  of  apparel,   while  women 
betow  her  iji_  station  were  strictly  limited  to  serv- 
iceable ;^tuffs  of  stout  linen  or  woolen,   and  to 
respett^Ie   and    inexpensive   homespun.      Class 

)  [128] 


-^ 


kz 


o-*^' 


—  .'.T      J 


TJie  Earnings  of  Married  Women/ 


Mines  in  the  republic  are  practically  now  obliter. 
ated,  and  every  woman  wears  what  she  chooses, 
buys  what  she  likes,  and  in  a  hundred  possible 
ways,  surrounds  herself  with  that  which  is  agree- 
able to  her  own  sense  of  fitness.  It  has  therefore 
come  to  pass  that  it  takes  a  good  deal  of  money 
to  live  in  a  pleasing  style,  and  few  people  have 
the  stern  virtue  to  be  entirely  contented  in  doing 
without  what  they  very  much  wish  they  might 
have.  The  burden  of  desire  in  homes  without 
number  is  more  money  to  spend,  while  in  other 
and  thriftier  homes,  the  wish  is  to  have  money 
to  save.  In  either  case,  the  wufe,  if  she  have  a 
quick  brain  and  deft  fingers,  and  some  ability  to 
take  the  initiative,  is  strongly  tempted  to  see 
what  she  can  do.  In  most  cases  it  is  not  best  for 
her  husband  that  she  should  take  upon  herself, 
his  share  of  the  task  that  lies  upon  both.  Shou 
she  be  compelled  to  abandon  her  efforts, 
might  then  feel  that  an  unfair  burden  was  thro) 
upon  him.  Wisdom  and  self-denial  should 
hand  in  hand. 

In  many  homes  there  are  leakages  which  cc 
and  should  be  stopped  to^dvantage^ 
consider  as  we  might 


The  Little  Kingdom  of  Home 


indulgences,  which  after  all  add  little  to  our  com-  ■;. 
fort.     A  penny  spent  here,  a  nickel  there,  the 
man's  tobacco,  the  woman's  chiffons,  the  child's 
candy,  continually  deplete  the  exchequer. 

The  wastefulness  of  our  American  living,  and 
the  heedless  manner  in  which  we  part  with  dimes, 
forgetting  that  they  make  dollars,  the  car-fares 
which  give  us  the  chance  to  ride  uncomfortably 
when  we  would  better  walk  to  the  advantage  of 
Jiealth  and  strength,  all  help  to  swell  the  debit 
xount,  and  diminish  the  credit.  The  wife  who 
(s  anxious  to  add  her  own  exertions  to  the  family 
icome,  would  in  most  cases  do  better  to  devote 
Jer  attentioa^o  a  prudent  saving,  rather  than  to 
)re  money  in  order  that  there  may  be 
ly  to  spend.  An  exact  keeping  of  house- 
\.s  would  vastly  increase  her  comfort, 
[the  home  asks  from  the  mother,  from 
money,  but  influence,  not  things 
Iiefsel?^^^;^^^hen  the  children  come  in   from 


their  first^il^^'  Mother!  "     One  hears 

r  voic^^^^uting"  her  name  as  the  boys 

tb^^^,  a^  storm  over  the  door- 

i'ttle  girls  \\ant  her,  that  they  may  tell 

^a44>-jvhat  they  must  do  for 

[130] 


The  Earnings  of  Married  IVonien 


c^ 


'to-morrow,  what  the  playmates  and  the  neighbor" 
children  have  on  foot  for  the  afternoon.  Then,"' 
a  little  later,  the  husband's  key  is  in  the  latch ;  he 
looks  up  expectant,  and  is  not  satisfied  until  he 
sees  the  brightening  of  his  day  in  the  dear  face 
that  makes  the  sunshine  of  his  world.  A  weary 
wife  meeting  him  on  the  train  with  a  host  of 
business  interests,  not  unlike  his  own,  the  absorp- 
tion of  the  office  in  her  bearing,  and  the  dust 
of  travel  on  her  skirts,  cannot  be  to  him  the  com- 
forter, the  refuge,  the  rest  that  his  home-staying, 
home-keqDing  wife  is.  They  might  sit  together 
at  a  well-appointed  meal,  but  it  would  lack  the 
savor  of  the  dinner  which  the  housekeeping  wife 
had  supervised.  Better  a  pot-roast  with  carrots 
and  cabbage,  if  it  be  flavored  with  the  essence 
of  home  cooking,  than  a  dinner  of  courses  in  a 
restaurant  with  strange  people  coming  and  going:^^^-^ 
and  a  soft-footed  waiter  changing  the  plat^ 
Sometimes  it  happens  that  the  wife  who  is  a  bi 
ness  woman  is  obliged  to  resign  the  peace  of 
mesticity  and  meet  her  husband,  the  business 
on  a  plane  of  equal  pressure  and  haste:  she 
to  live  with  him  in  an  inn,  or  in  k^dgings,  or  m^ 
a  haphazard  fashion  of  one  oj^^fSj^^gprt,  t^ 


The  Little  Kingdom  of  Home 


makes  meals  in  public  imperative.    Away  flies  the. 
dove  of  home  peace.    The  two  lose  the  invaluable 
protection  of  privacy. 

What  the  home  seeks  of  the  wife  and  mother 
is  leisure  to  listen  to  its  problems,  discretion  to 
guide  its  counsels,  and  serenity  to  bless  its 
atmosphere. 

There  are  times  in  the  life  of  every  young  girl 
when  she  needs  her  mother;  not  knowing  which 
of  two  or  three  paths  to  choose,  it  is  all-important 
that  she  shall  turn  to  the  woman  nearest  her  on 
earth,  and  dearest,  for  advice  and  help.  Perhaps 
a  boy,  at  the  transitional  period  between  early 
youth  and  opening  manhood,  even  more  than  a 
girl,  needs  some  one  at  home,  to  whom  he  may 
carry  his  perplexities,  some  one  untroubled  by 
the  whirl  and  rush  of  the  hurrying  tide  of  human- 
ity outside  the  door,  some  one  who  can  be  to  a  lad 
lis  first  hour  of  temptation,  his  earliest  time 
•ial,  just  what  a  mother  and  only  a  mother 
be.  The  biographies  of  men  who  have  been 
inent  and  successful,  and  have  advanced  the 
id's  work,  show  with  remarkable  uniformity 
Ijhey  have  had  mothers  who  were  the  strong 
for  good  in  the  background ;   mothers  who 


V^ 


[132] 


■thought,  and  read,  and  wrought,  and  prayed, 
and  who  were  not  mere  workers  in  the  open 
mart  for  wages.  The  world  wants  good  mothers. 
It  can  do  without  clever  money-makers. 

These  noble  mothers  may  have  had  few  educa- 
tional advantages  in  the  conventional  meaning 
of  the  phrase.  They  may  have  been  homely 
women,  with  homely  virtues,  have  been  shy  in 
society,  clinging  closely  to  the  shelter  of  the  fire- 
side. To  read  Thomas  Carlyle's  "  Letters  to 
His  Mother,"  or  J.  M.  Barrie's  story  of  his, 
as  related  in  "  Margaret  Ogilvie,"  is  to  find  con- 
firmation of  this.  Plain  little  mothers  with  the 
instinct  of  the  hovering  wing,  they  brooded  over 
their  children  and,  little  known  beyond  their 
doors,  diffused  heaven's  blessing  within  them. 
Thank  God,  for  pure,  sweet,  capable,  gentle 
sympathizing,  old-fashioned  mothers! 

Ruskin  says :  "  The  best  women  are  indeed  tl 
most   difficult   to  know.      They   are 
chiefly  in  the  happiness  of  their  husbands  and 
nobleness  of  their  children;   they  are  only  to 
divined,  not  discerned  by  the  stranger,  and  soi 
times  seem  almost  helple« 

For  the  prevalent  tern 


its  aroma  of  fragrance,  its  sense  of  proportion  of 
what  is  owed  to  God  and  to  one's  fellow  beings, 
we  must  look  to  the  mother.  Her  communion 
with  the  unseen  permeates  the  visible  life  of  the 
household,  and  freshens  its  every-day  air.  The 
ideal  wife  and  mother  has  higher  and  finer  things 
to  do  than  to  be  a  breadwinner,  unless,  in  the 
tempest  of  life,  her  husband  has  been  swept  away, 
and  she  is  compelled  to  leave  her  natural  sphere 
toil  for  her  children. 
[When  this  condition  confronts  her,  and  obliges 
to  fend  for  herself,  the  widow's  situation  is 
her  different  from  that  of  the  wife,  wHo 
her  door,  and  who  does  not  so  much 
volf's  menacing  growl  in  the  remote 
distance.  Should  sickness  prostrate 
so  that  during  long  intervals  he  can 
the  material  prosperity  of  his 
^m  again  admits  of  but  one  solu- 
are  grown,  the  wife 
oar.  Here,  when  women 
cessity  of  a  situation, 
ision.  Truth  to  tell,  they 
j,  courage  and  invin- 
which  are  !3eyond  praise. 


1  he  Earnings  of  Married  Women 


A  widow,  in  poverty  and  desolation,  will  some- 
times bring  up  a  half-dozen  children  with  credit, 
wash  for  them,  cook  for  them,  sew  for  them,  and 
at  the  same  time  wash  or  cook  or  sew  for  the 
wages  that  earn  their  bread,  while  a  widower, 
left  in  the  same  distressful  state,  proves  as  help- 
less as  a  boat  without  a  rudder. 

The  question  ceases  to  be  puzzling  when  it  is 
illuminated  by  the  clear  shining  of  a  plain  duty. 
Speaking  of  married  women  as  wage-earners,  the 
conclusion  is  that,  on  the  whole,  it  is  not  for  the 
good  of  the  home  that  they  should  be  persuaded 
to  leave  it  and  its  engrossing  round  of  tasks,  for 
any  place,  office,  factory,  shop,  mill,  studio,  or 
whatever  it  may  be,  simply  that  the  exchequer 
may  be  replenished.    But  when  they  must  toil,  and 
the  question  ceases  to  be  one  of  choice,  when  there 
is  no  longer  a  husband  in  need  of  a  comrade,  Oj 
when  only  the  mother  stands  between  the  ho 
and  adversity,  there  is  then  no  escape,  and  in  dut 
assumed  and  fulfilled  there  is  no  detriment. 

Some  years  ago  in  a  little  New  England  to\\Tr/^ 
a  sturdy  Scotch  woman  found  herself  strande 
on  the  lee  shore  of  want.     Her  yoiJfcg'liusban 
died  suddenly.    She  had  a  child,  a  rosy-faced  boy 

[135] 


>f  three.  The  only  thing  the  mother  understood 
was  housework,  and  she  bravely  took  a  servant's 
place  in  a  rich  man's  home.  She  stayed  there  for 
successive  years,  till  her  laddie  grew  tall  and 
strong,  and,  going  to  school,  showed  the  promise 
of  rare  intellectual  power.  The  mother  gave  up 
her  place,  and  took  for  herself  a  small  tenement, 
where  she  made  a  living  by  doing  laundry  work 
for  a  hotel.  She  was  what  the  French  call 
blanchisseuse  de  ftn.  Years  passed  as  years  do. 
To-day  the  Scottish  callant  is  a  splendidly  success- 
ful surgeon,  and  his  mother,  grown  old,  rides  in 
her  carriage,  and  wears  a  silk  gown,  and  is  waited 
on  by  others,  as  she  has  earned  the  right  to  be, 
by  her  long  career  of  persevering  toil. 

When  all  is  said,  and  whatever  the  circum- 
stances, the  best  a  woman  can  give  her  home  and 
ler^children  is  herself.    Any  other  thing  is  merely 
best.    And  whoever  so  lives  that  a  strong. 
Fast,  unwavering  personality  stamps  its  ball- 
on her  family,  will  be  remembered  by  "  what 
j^as  done,"  long  after  the  money  that  looms 
view  has  become  of  no  value  in 
^ch  we  go. 
[er's  strong  box,  and  the  million- 

[136] 


'The  Earnings  of  Married  PVomen 


lire's  securities,  and  the  gewgaws  for  which  men 
and  women  barter  their  souls,  will  be  but  as 
rubbish  for  the  dust  heap.  For  in  that  land  are 
enduring  values,  and  a  crown  that  shall  never 
lose  its  lustre,  a  crown  of  life. 

Great  men  as  a  rule  have  had  great  mothers. 
Yet  we  are  mistaken  if  we  limit  the  influence  of 
mothers  by  the  few  examples  that  have  come  to 
us  from  history.  In  a  generation,  here  and  there, 
one  man  or  one  woman  is  conspicuous,  forced 
to  the  front  by  opportunity,  or  by  a  talent  for 
leadership.  The  mass  of  men  do  their  work  and 
fill  their  places  in  comparative  obscurity,  and 
worthily  or  unworthily,  often,  according  to  their 
early  training.  Mothers  have  their  innings  be- 
fore the  world's  chance  comes.  It  cannot  be  too 
often  repeated,  and  mothers  should  not  be  ham- 
pered by  wage-earning,  if  it  can  be  helped. 


■) 


[^s?! 


V 


N  these  days  of  quiet  beauty,  when  the  silver^ 
haze  of  morn 
Like  a  mystic  veil  uplifteth,  and  afar  to  space  is 

borne, 
Come   the   hours,   Hke  radiant   angels,   bringing 

gifts  from  One  we  love. 
And   our  rapture  of  thanksgiving  rises  to  His 
throne  above. 


[140] 


High  Lights  of  Happiness 


WE  are  a  nomadic  people,  and  in  these 
days  of  luxurious  travelling  we  think 
little  of  going  to  Europe  or  California, 
or  to  the  East.  With  less  trepidation  than  a  man 
once  felt  when  bidding  good-by  to  his  family  on 
starting  from  New  York  to  Albany,  we  set  out  on 
trips  by  land  or  sea,  which  may  involve  an  absence 
of  long  months  or  years,  during  which  the  famil- 
iar hearth-side  will  glow  star-like  in  the  vista  of 
memory,  never  forgotten,  never  ceasing  to  cast 
its  hallowed  reflection  over  the  new  scenes  and 
sights.  A  man  always  carries  his  home  with  him, 
go  where  he  may.  We  sit  in  the  train,  and,  as 
night  comes  on,  the  cars  glide  through  unknoA 
villages  where  the  household  lamps  twinkle  behim 
the  shining  window-panes,  and  we  know  that^ 
those  homes  supper  is  ready,  the  husband  retun 
from  -AVork  to  be  greeted  by  the  wife's  smile, 
golden  heads  cluster  around  the  table,  and^he 
children  are  telling  the 


The  Little  Kingdom  of  Home 


flash  past,  and  we  never  shall  meet  one  of  th( 
inmates  of  those  happy  homes,  yet  our  hearts  are' 
blither  because  we  have  had  that  flitting  glimpse. 
The  quiet,  obscure,  unnoticed  homes  of  our  re- 
public are  its  bulwark  of  defence  from  the  dangers 
that  menace  its  safety,  dangers,  let  us  remember, 
from  within;   never  from  without. 

So,  when  we  walk  the  streets  of  a  foreign  city, 
and  hear  people  talking  in  a  dialect  strange  to 
^ur  ears,  we  are  aware  of  a  thrill  of  responsive 
idness  when  the  father  lifts  his  chubby  child 
his  shoulder  or  tucks  his  wife's  hand  under 
IS   arm   as  they   saunter  along  some   crowded 
iulevard. 

in  the  large  view,  not  our  own,  nec- 

it  the  portion  of  others,  somehow  adds 

fore   of   courage,    strength,   and   hope. 

its  silver  strands  are  inwrought  into 

of  our  lives,  glinting  with  white 

jh  the  darker  stuffs,  softening  the 


seamy  places,  making 

^fe's  garment  beautiful 

we  can  conquer  every 

iiiess  are  twins,  never  to 

are  they  who  are  en- 


sphered  in  happiness,  whose  days  go  on  trium- 
phantly, because  they  are  not  thorny  with  needless 

friction. 

"  There  are  briers  besetting  every  path 
Which  call  for  constant  dare, 
There  is  a  crook  in  every  lot, 

And  a  need  for  earnest  prayer. 
But  a  lowly  heart  that  leans  on  Thee 
Is  happy  anywhere," 


sings  Miss  Waring  in  a  tender  lyric.  She  has 
caught  the  secret.  A  home  can  never  touch  the 
high-water  mark  of  perfect  peace  unless  there 
is  acknowledgment  of  God  and  conscious  resting 
upon  Him  there.  The  only  homes  that  are 
absolutely  fortified  against  the  encroachments  of 
misery,  of  envy,  of  disturbance,  are  those  which 
honor  God.  Some  may  dispute  this  statement, 
but  it  is  deliberately  made.  We  are  not  to  live 
forever,  and  the  element  of  permanence  ent( 
into  our  homes  only  when  we  regard  them"^ 
vestibules  to  the  homes  where  there  shall  be* 
more  sorrow  and  no  more  pain.  The  earthly 
piness  should  be  the  prelude  to  the  heavenfl 
harmonies. 

Complete  reciprocity  of  sej^MniMtBakes 

[143 


TJie  Little  Kingdom  of  Home 


enduring  happiness.  We  must  have  spontaneous^ 
sympathy,  a  quick  comprehension  of  the  mood  of 
those  around  us,  and  unfailing  courtesy  of  man- 
ner. There  are  people  who  would  die  for  each 
other  were  it  needful,  but  whose  politeness  gives 
out  at  the  slightest  provocation,  who  are  prone 
to  misunderstandings  which  might  easily  be 
avoided  by  the  exercise  of  a  little  gentleness  and 
tactful  consideration.  Good  manners  have  more 
to  do  with  daily  happiness  than  some  of  us  think. 
When  we  are  visiting  friends,  we  wear  our  best 
manners  as  we  do  our  best  raiment,  and,  in  con- 
sequence, we  make  and  receive  charming  impres- 
sions. At  home,  we  are  off  guard,  and,  it  may 
be,  boorish,  brusque,  meagre  in  our  thanks,  curt 
in  our  phrases,  undemonstrative  to  the  freezing- 
point,  or  vehement  to  the  boiling-point.  Any  lack 
of  courtesy  in  the  household  flaws  the  household 

)piness  for  the  time,  and  frequent  flaws  inflict 

mds.     A  wound  may  be  healed,  but  the  scar 

lains. 
^Simple  goodness  counts  for  much  in  the  home 

d.  Where  the  heads  of  the  house  are  uniformly 

Hhe  old  rule  of  noblesse  oblige,  the 

yoaifflgQjDflsa©^  will  follow  their  lead.    Excessive 

[144] 


irritability,  or  unreasonable  self-will,  egotism  ^^ 
which  measures  everything  by  its  own  standard, 
altruism  which  spills  over  in  generosity  to  the 
outside  world,  and  is  grudging  and  churlish  at 
home,  all  alike  blight  the  completeness  of  house- 
hold joy.  The  truth  is  that  we  must  have  freedom 
to  expand  in  the  home  atmosphere,  and  this  we 
can  never  hope  for,  unless  the  home  allow  in- 
dividual liberty  of  choice  and  action.  This  is 
the  outgrowth  of  every  home  where  the  habitual 
expression  of  the  life  is  restrained  and  controlled 
by  a  fine  courtesy. 

A  frequent  cause  of  heartache  is  explained  by 
the   word    misunderstood.      The   cry   of   human 
nature  is  for  complete  understanding.     In  order 
that  one   may  really   understand  another,   there 
must  be  congeniality,  attraction  of  temperament, 
and  entire  confidence.     An  undue  reticence  is 
blame    for    a    good    deal    of    misunderstandi 
"  Ware  shoal  "  might  prudently  be  written  o-^ 
this  quality.     Even  good  people  are  someti 
so  secretive  that  an  actual  furtiveness  charac 
izes   their   behavior.      They   dislike   being 
tioned,   and  they  surrou 
deeds  with  mystery,  n 


w5      The   Little  Kingdom  of  Home 


If. 


of  them,  but  because  their  impulse  is  always  to 
stalk  under  cover.  A  man  or  woman  hampered 
by  this  innate  reserve,  this  unfortunate  reticence, 
will  almost  certainly,  sooner  or  later,  awaken 
unjust  suspicions  in  those  around  him,  and,  if 
the  home  people  be  jealous  or  sensitive,  there  will 
be  cobwebs  of  wretched  misunderstanding  and 
barriers  of  foolish  anger,  which  will  drive  love 
out  of  the  door.  Alas !  for  the  utterly  absurd 
id  needless  troubles  that  vex  home  love. 
Confidence  should  be  unbroken,  not  merely 
jetween  married  people,  but  through  the  whole 
Hisehold.  Miserable  makeshifts  and  subter- 
>orted  to  by  parents  who  keep  their 
the  dark  about  family  affairs,  and  by 
lughters  who  either  do  not  dare  or  do 
fe  to  explain  a  precise  situation  to  their 
[f,  for  instance,  there  is  poverty  and 
>nomy,  let  all  in  the  house  be  in- 
subject,  and  all  share  in  the  stren- 
iavor  tW'^^^^Sp  home  into  an  easier 
vShoul^^^^^^ughter  make  a  blunder 
tl^e  shouPff  never  be  the  fear  of 
►mmg^^^ii^sn  reproach  to  keep  con- 
!  tne  fea^i^rbtfnST/  Should  son  or  daugh- 


ter  have  a  request  to  make,  it  should  be  pre- 
ferred openly  and  bravely,  in  the  conviction  that 
parental  love  will  grant  it,  if  possible. 

In  the  matchless  story  of  Nathaniel  Hawthorne 
and  his  wife,  a  classic  in  biography,  one  is  con- 
tinually delighted  by  the  completeness  of  the 
family  union.  Together  or  apart,  they  understood 
each  other,  and  sacrifices  were  as  nothing  in  their 
eyes,  if  they  could  contribute  to  each  other's  suc- 
cess or  enjoyment.  Julian  Hawthorne's  last 
memory  of  his  father,  when,  a  youth  at  college, 
he  came  home  with  some  wish  to  present,  was 
of  his  father's  attenuated  but  glowing  face,  and 
the  smile  with  which  the  wish  was  granted. 

Avoid  pettiness.  We  need  to  cultivate  in  our- 
selves the  habit  of  looking  at  everything  as  a 
whole,  and  of  turning  from  the  trifling  details 
to  the  larger  ends.  An  illustration  comes  to  mil 
in  the  experience  of  a  woman  whose  eyes  hi 
been  tired  and  strained  by  a  long  period  of  lal 
in  the  painting  of  miniatures.  She  consulted 
oculist,  who  told  her  that  she  must  put  her  w^ 
aside  and  spend  a  summer  under  the  open  sk^ 
"  Take  longer  looks,"  he  said, 
out,  and  get  breadth  of  vision. 

[>47] 


In  our  home  world  we  need  breadth  of  vision. 
How  small  and  insignificant  are  most  of  our 
occasions  of  dispute !  How  we  spend  our  strength 
and  waste  our  force  over  issues  of  infinitesimal 
importance!  In  the  great  crises,  when  the 
mighty  calamities  sweep  across  our  homes,  we 
are  amazed  and  ashamed  that  we  ever  were  an- 
noyed or  troubled  by  things  too  tiny  to  be  reck- 
oned up  in  the  great  total.  "  Much  ado  about 
nothing  "  might  be  inscribed  over  most  family 
quarrels.  A  petty  nature  will  nag,  find  fault, 
take  the  opposite  side  through  perversity,  and  kill 
happiness  as  frost  kills  plants. 

Appreciation  does  much   for  home  happiness, 

particularly  when  it  is  unstinted  and  seasonable. 

Old-fashioned    people   used    to    fear   that   praise 

would  hurt  their  children,  so  they  very  carefully 

refrained    from    giving   unqualified    approval    to 

^^^^hing    the    children    did.      "  Until    I    was    a 

an  grown,"   said  a  lady,  whose  home  was 

the  austerest  Puritan  sternness,  "  I  supposed 

t  my  mother  did  not  love  me.     I  was  always 

er  ceiisu;"e.     In  later  life,  looking  back,  I  saw 

at^lwSjas^really  taken  pride  in  me,  but  that 

entiously  repressed  praise,  lest  I 

[148] 


inight  become  vain."  Blessed  are  the  people  who. 
dare  to  be  natural,  who  are  not  incessantly  afraid 
that  they  will  make  mistakes,  and  who  in  home 
life  are  as  spontaneous  and  lavish  as  God's  sun- 
light is  when  it  flashes  in  swift  pulsations  from 
the  morning  sky. 

"  Shall  we  be  happy?  "  a  girl  asked,  anxiously, 
when  her  lover  pressed  her  to  say  yes  to  his 
earnest  pleading.  "  It  would  be  so  dreadful  if  it 
were  a  mistake,  if  we  missed  happiness."  She 
hesitated,  shy  at  the  thought  of  how  much  she 
must  surrender,  timid  lest  she  should  not  have 
enough  to  give  in  return  for  a  man's  great  love. 

"  It  is  not  the  question,  shall  we  be  happy,  that 
we  must  chiefly  consider,"  said  the  suitor.  "  It  is, 
can  we  help  one  another?  Shall  we  be  of  more 
use  together  than  apart  ?  Shall  we  reach  a  higher 
level,  if  we  are  married,  than  if  each  plods  qi 
alone?" 

The  marriage  in  which  the  man  is  the  compj 
ment  of  the  woman,  and  she,  in  return,  his  G{ 
chosen  mate,  will  be  sure  to  mean  both  happi 
and  usefulness  to  the  home  the  partners  fo^ 
and  maintain,  and  to 

There  are  misfits  in 


love  with  a  rose-leaf  complexion  and  violet  eyes, 
and  straightway  he  fancies  that  every  womanly 
charm  he  has  ever  enshrined  in  his  ideal  is  resi- 
dent there.  A  muddy  skin  and  dull  eyes  might  be 
the  mask  for  a  fairer  soul,  but  nothing  could 
convince  him  of  that.  A  girl,  wooed  by  an  ath- 
letic fellow  who  carries  his  head  high,  has  a  deb- 
onair bearing,  and  dresses  well,  a  detail,  that  last, 
which  counts  for  more  than  it  ought  in  womanly 
timation,  agrees  to  marry  him.  She  may  have 
iosen  unwisely,  and  so  may  the  man  who  fell 
love  with  physical  beauty  alone.  Both,  having 
fosen,  shouldsecure  what  spoil  of  good  fortune 
ike  the  best  of  things,  and  not  repine 
Lbove  all,  let  them  not  weakly  and  dis- 
'k  for  pity  from  outsiders.  To  seek 
from  a  third  person,  no  matter  how 
long  for  it,  is  an  unpardonable  sin 
le. 

irageously  undertaken, 

subsequently  happiness 

it  people. 

ient,'not  exactly  shallow,  yet 

certain   gallantry  of 

to  fickleness  though 


loyal  at  the  base  of  things,  a  certain  craving  for- 
admiration  and  a  sort  of  instinctive  leaning  to 
coquetry,  all  of  it  undignified  and  regrettable, 
make  perilous  work  for  the  home.  Happiness 
can  be  built  only  on  fidelity  to  the  spoken  vow, 
and  allegiance  to  the  covenant.  Those  who  are 
in  any  way  disloyal  to  the  pledge  imperil  the  home 
and  insensibly  but  surely  lower  the  moral  tone 
of  all  within  its  sphere. 

The  pessimist  cries  out  that  there  is  not  much 
real  domestic  peace  in  the  twentieth  century.    He 
is  wrong.    We  are  not  tending  downward.    Ours 
is  an  ascending  path.      By  thousands  and  tens 
of  thousands  everywhere  homes  rejoice  in  purity, 
in  blessedness,  in  honesty.     Men  and  women  lead 
clean  lives.   Households  are  sweet  and  safe.   Har- 
mony is  the  rule,  not  the  exception.    On  the  coastSy^^ 
of  life,  like  beacons,  shine,  ever  serenely,  the  hi| 
lights  of  happiness.     The   reefs   and   shoals 
malice,  deceit,  hypocrisy,  ill-temper,  and  unwor 
iness  exist,  but  dominating  them  are  the  cz 
skies,  where  love  and  content  move  on  like 
stars  in  their  courses, 

Adelaide  Anne  Procter's  be 
omizes  the  story  of  most  home? 

[151] 


"  Who  is  the  Angel  that  cometh  ? 
Life! 
Let  us  not  question  what  he  brings, 

Peace  or  Strife, 
Under  the  shade  of  his  mighty  wings, 
One  by  one, 
Are  his  secrets  told ; 
One  by  one, 
Lit  by  the  rays  of  each  morning  sun, 
Shall  a  new  flower  its  petals  unfold, 
With  the  mystery  hid  in  its  heart  of  gold. 
We  will  arise  and  go  forth  to  greet  him. 
Singing  gladly  with  one  accord  :  — 
'  Blessed  is  he  that  cometh 

In  the  name  of  the  Lord ! ' 


Who  is  the  Angel  that  cometh  ? 

Joy! 
Look  at  his  glittering  rainbow  wings  — 

No  alloy 
Lies  in  the  radiant  gifts  he  brings ; 
Tender  and  sweet, 
He  is  come  to-day, 
Tender  and  sweet : 
While  the  chains  of  love  on  his  silver  feet 
Will  hold  him  in  lingering  fond  delay, 
t  him  quickly,  he  will  not  stay, 
1  leave  us ;  but  though  for  others 
is  brightest  treasures  are  stored  :  — 


[152] 


"  Who  is  the  Angel  that  cometh  ? 
Pain! 
Let  us  arise  and  go  forth  to  greet  him ; 

Not  in  vain 
Is  the  summons  come  for  us  to  meet  him ; 
He  will  stay 
And  darken  our  sun; 
He  will  stay 
A  desolate  night,  a  weary  day, 

Since  in  that  shadow  our  work  is  done, 
And  in  that  shadow  our  crowns  are  won, 
Let  us  say  still,  while  his  bitter  chalice 
Slowly  into  our  hearts  is  poured,  — 
'  Blessed  is  he  that  cometh 

In  the  name  of  the  Lord  ! ' 


"  Who  is  the  Angel  that  cometh  ? 
Death ! 
But  do  not  shudder  and  do  not  fear ; 

Hold  your  breath, 

For  a  kingly  presence  is  drawing  near, 

Cold  and  bright 

Is  his  flashing  steel, 

Cold  and  ^g^t 

The  smile  that  comes  Tik 


To  calm  the  terror  and  grief  we  feel ; 
He  comes  to  help  and  to  save  and  heal : 
Then  let  us,  baring  our  hearts  and  kneeling, 
Sing,  while  we  wait  the  Angel's  sword, — 
•  Blessed  is  he  that  cometh 

In  the  name  of  the  Lord ! '  " 


Home  life,  in  its  progress,  has  both  lights  and 
shadows;  high  lights  to-day,  deep  shadows  to- 
morrow, but  there  may  be  unspeakable  and  un- 
roken  gladness  through  and  under  every  human 
cperience,  if  God's  will  be  continually  accepted 
good  and  right. 


[155] 


['56] 


The  Young  People 


BEFORE  we  realize  it,  the  children  of  yes- 
terday are  in  the  full,  swift  current  of  ado- 
lescence. They  are  young  people,  snatching 
eagerly  at  every  joy,  fond  of  excitement,  reckless 
of  danger,  drinking  deeply  of  life's  most  sparkling 
cup.  A  household  of  young  people  is  full  of 
gaiety.  Good  times  abound.  There  is  a  sense 
of  something  pleasant  happening.  Anticipation 
gilds  the  most  commonplace  incidents.  Nobody 
knows  what  may  be  announced  next,  concerning 
Ted  at  college,  or  Jean  in  society.  The  family 
history  ceases  to  be  uneventful.  Buoyant  animal 
spirits  are  the  accompaniment  of  high  health  anc 
undashed  hopes.  Older  people,  enjoying  the  slij 
pers  and  dressing-gown  of  ease  after  a  busy  daj 
wonder  at  the  feet  that  can  dance  till  dawn, 
then  go  untired  to  bed,  ready  for  another  dr 
when  another  evening  comes.  The  skating, 
ing,  riding,  driving,  love-makinsf  of  vouth^he 
whole  tremendous  pace; 


The  Little  Kingdom  of  Home 


blood,  are  alien  to  the  more  even  pulses,  the  more^- 
sluggish  tide,  of  middle  and  old  age. 

In  a  period  of  greater  strictness  than  ours, 
parents  were  foolishly  rigid  in  their  treatment  of 
the  young.  They  had  no  patience  with  the  flow- 
ing sail.  They  girded  at  the  innocent  mirth 
appropriate  to  boys  and  girls,  who  are  frivolous 
and  light-hearted,  and  not  yet  confronted  with 
the  more  strenuous  obligations  of  life.  An  elderly 
idy,  speaking  of  her  youth,  when  New  York  was 
*  village,  and  everybody  knew  everybody  else, 
lid,  "  We  were  a  large  family,  and  our  friends 
klonged  to  large  families,  too,  so  there  was  a 
larmingf  cy^e  of  young  people,  all  about  the 
My  father,  however,  was  very  rigid, 
•on-clad  niles,  and  expected  us  to  ob- 
in  our  teens  and  twenties,  exactly 
when  mere  children.  So  we  never 
pany  at  home,  except  on  the  rare 
he  went  on  a  journey,  and  we 
or  a  concert  or  supper 
ed  with  our  predica- 
ch  as  she  could.  We 
,  and  then  slip  calico  or 
ary  wear,  over  our 


pretty  toilets,  walking  past  father  and  his  book 
or  paper  as  if  going  down-stairs  on  an  errand. 
The  deceit  and  hypocrisy  of  it  all  fruited  in  con- 
flicts between  our  desire  for  perfectly  innocent 
enjoyment  and  our  father's  mistaken  ideal  of  what 
was  right." 

A  young  married  lady,  spending  her  first  winter 
away  from  her  father's  house,  was  asked  why  she 
and  her  husband  absented  themselves  from  church. 
"  Simply,"  she  replied,  "  because  both  Will  and 
I  have  had  churchgoing  enough  to  last  us  a  life- 
time.   We  have  been  compelled  to  go  twice  every 
Sunday,  whether  we  wished  it  or  not,  and  now 
we  are  taking  a  vacation."     The  case  was  one 
of  reaction,  and  it  was  a  pity  that  it  took  this 
form,  but  there  was  nothing  extraordinary  about 
it,  as  further  inquiry  developed  the  fact  that  both^^^^j-^ 
young  people  had  been  brought  up  in  househol^*^ -'*^-** 
where   religion   was   so   grim   as   to   be   almc 
ghastly. 

To  mothers  and  sisters  there  is  a  time  wl 
the  boy,  not  yet  a  man,  and  beyond  the  sweetn^;'^ 
of  childhood,  is  a  trial  to  their  patience.     He 
headstrong,   and   perhaps   dispQse^^.tjQ ^challenge 
authority,   is  set  upon  his  o^#fWTO'^^ts 

['59] 


The  Little  Kingdom  of  Home 


k 

scrapes  through  sheer  impulsiveness,  and  carries 
everything  too  far.  His  boyish  nature  finds  an 
outlet  in  sports  and  games,  and  it  is  well  for  him 
that  football,  baseball,  and  other  forms  of  ac- 
tivity in  the  open  field  afford  him  a  chance  to 
expend  some  of  his  superfluous  energy.  Indoors, 
the  lad  is  sometimes  clumsy  and  awkward,  con- 
scious of  his  hands  and  feet,  slow  to  speech,  and 
apt  to  be  in  the  way.  The  next  few  months  and 
years  are  of  immense  importance  to  this  young 
fellow,  and  the  girls,  graceful  and  poised  by 
nature,  should  not  be  too  critical  of  him,  while 
his  mother  ought  to  stand  by  him,  his  steadfast 
champion  and  constant  confidante. 

The  society  of  other  young  people  is  invaluable 

to  a  boy  at  the  turning-point,   when   manhood 

beckons.     Now,  the  home  evenings  should  be  so 

interesting  that  he  will  not  have  the  wish  to  rush 

as  soon  as  the  lamps  are  lighted.     The  chief 

th  of  a  home  is  its  children,  and  it  is  worth 

ile,  for  their  sake,  to  have  music  and  warmth 

cheer  in  the  evenings,  whether  or  not  the 

ily  fortunes  are  prosperous.    Even  very  small 


■^■^V-nrfestas:' 


of  a  little  provision  for  household 
off  expenditures  somewhere  else, 

[1 60] 


evenings  De  nappy,  witn  a 
fire  in  the  winter  on  the  hearth  where  one  can 
see  it,  and  a  lamp  aglow  on  the  centre-table. 

The  boy  who  has  friends  among  the  other  sex, 
girls  whom  he  visits  openly,  their  mothers  and 
sisters  in  the  parlor,  or  forming  the  background 
for  his  call,  is,  on  the  whole,  safer  and  more  likely 
to  choose  the  right  sort  of  associates  later,  than 
the  boy  who  is  shy  and  distant  with  girls,  and 
numbers  none  of  them  among  his  intimates. 

In  a  village,  the  neighborhood  groups  naturally 
include  the  young  people  who  have  grown  up 
together,  and  they  form  a  very  valuable  part  of 
the  community.  To  them  a  few  years  hence  will 
be  entrusted  the  management  of  the  schools,  the 
churches,  the  households,  that  now  are  in  the 
hands  of  their  elders.  It  is,  therefore,  an  en-  , 
couraging  sign  when  they  are  not  wholly  occupied 
with  pleasure,  and  when  they  show  some  tenden 
to  accept  responsibility.  A  young  man  shoy]^ 
not  be  indifferent  to  the  honor  of  his  first  vfl 
It  is  a  good  thing  that  a  household,  as  a  unit 
vast  meaning  in  the  State,  though  only  a  u^it 
among:  millions,  should  care  intenselv  and  vi^lly 
about  politics,    in   a   r« 


^ 


'v^-? 

..>..»> 


government 
of  individual  voters. 

On  the  coming  man  will  be  laid  the  duty,  as 
well  as  the  privilege,  of  the  ballot.  The  boys 
and  young  men  in  the  home  should  have  intelli- 
gent preparation  for  this  public  service,  and  it 
argues  well  for  the  State  when  they  are  so  trained 
that  they  are  enthusiastic  lovers  of  their  country, 
and  also  strong  partisans. 

Training  in  patriotism  is  as  essential  in  the 
ioulding  and  shaping  of  young  people  as  any 
)ther  training.     The  girl  will  probably  not  vote. 
|he  will  not  need  suffrage,  her  province  in  life 
ioors,  not,  as  the  man's  must  be,  in 
conflict.    Not  because  young  women 
for  the  vote,  not  because  they  do  not 
and  understand  important  issues,  but 
iuence  rather  than  action  is  their  func- 
le-making  rather  than   State-pilot- 
'appropriate  work.     The  overwhelming 
of  opm^^^i^this  country  as  yet  re- 
lay up^^^^^^e  great  burden  of  the 
!l  come  to  pass  that  a 
American    women,    wives, 
hearts,  earnestly  desire 

[162] 


to  vote,  American  men  will  not  deny  them  their_^,- 
request.     As  yet  the  occasion  has  not  arisen,  and 
the  request  has  been  made  by  a  courteous  and 
intelligent,  but  not  persistent  or  absolutely  dis~ 
contented  minority. 

Our  young  women,  in  the  formative  period, 
have  hardly  given  suffrage  a  passing  thought. 
But  our  noblest  young  men  are  beginning,  in  this 
country  as  in  older  lands,  to  look  forward  to 
political  life  as  an  opening  career  of  most  inviting 
promise  and  of  magnificent  possibilities  of  ad- 
vancement. 

Leagues,  societies,  associations,  and  circles  of 
many  kinds  call  for  the  cooperation  of  our  young 
people.    The  Young  Men's  and  Young  Women's 
Christian  Associations,  around  the  globe,  are  en- 
rolling the  finest  flower  of  our  civilization,  the 
most  splendid  products  of  our  homes  and  college 
The  educated  young  people  of  this  generati(j 
must  presently  be  the  ruling  class,   the  leade 
in  every  enterprise,  in  benevolent  and  civic  w( 
in  efforts  for  the  uplifting  of  the  world. 

Our  problems  in  America  are  multiform  anj 
puzzling.     What  shall  we  do  with^a^Y.  shall  we> 
cope  with,  the  mighty  mass 

[163] 


^v 


The  Little  Kingdom  of  Home 


stitioiis  and  downtrodden  immigrants,  who  pour, 
in  upon  us  from  Europe  and  Asia  by  millions? 
Hopefully  they  come,  as  to  a  world-haven  where 
they  shall  find  room  to  grow,  room  to  better  their 
conditions,  room  to  bring  up  their  children  as 
they  could  not  in  the  old  homes.  Pallid  Jewish 
operatives,  with  the  shameful  injustice  of  centu- 
ries of  oppression  bowing  their  shoulders  and 
touching  the  hesitancy  of  their  manner,  but  with 
the  keen  intellect  and  marvellous  shrewdness  of 
their  race  in  abeyance,  and  needing  only  oppor- 
tunity, throng  to  our  cities  and  stay  there.  In 
our  free  schools  and  normal  colleges  no  young 
people  are  so  clever,  so  responsive,  and  so  quick 
to  prize  learning  as  the  Hebrews.  What  has  a 
free  land  to  give  them  besides  schooling?  Are 
we  forever  to  repeat  the  old  war-cries  and  for- 
ever to  push  aside  and  shut  out  of  friendly  com- 
[ionship  the  children  of  Abraham? 
fhat  of  the  blue-eyed  peoples  from  the  North, 
Swedes,  Danes,  Finns,  Norwegians,  with  their 
hair  and  their  blonde  complexions  and 
my  strength?  What  of  the  dark-eyed  sons 
^  of  the  South,  Italian,  Spanish, 
'ian  people,  who  come  confidently 

[164] 


■fo  our  seaports,  thronging  in  day  by  day,  a  host 
who  are  to  be  sheltered,  taught,  assimilated,  a 
host  who,  in  our  schools,  shall  daily  salute  our 
flag,  and  learn  to  love  and  serve  it  loyally? 

These  tasks  are  not  for  us;  they  are  the  tasks 
before  our  young  people,  and,  in  an  incredibly 
short  time,  they  will  be  in  the  thick  of  the  fight, 
undertaking  what  has  been  kept  in  store  for  them, 
since  the  hour  when  the  Pilgrim  Fathers,  and  the 
Pilgrim  mothers,  too,  landed  on  the  Massachu- 
setts coast;  since  the  gallant  cavaliers  first  came 
as  gentlemen  adventurers  or  as  fearless  men-at- 
arms  to  the  shores  of  the  James. 

Young  people  are  restless  in  these  days,  and  the 
home  cannot  long  keep  them  within  its  charmed 
area.  In  country  places,  where  the  scope  for  a 
career  is  limited,  the  young  men  leave  for  towns, 
or  for  the  ranch,  or  the  mining-camp,  or  tl 
newer  State,  with  its  newer  chances,  as  soon 
they  are  their  own  masters.  The  mining-engi;;, 
neer  is  wanted  the  world  over,  and  our  boys 
finding  work  in  South  Africa,  Russia,  Chin 
Japan,  South  America,  and  our  immense  West 
territory.  The  scholar,  J;he  business  man^De 
soldier,  the  sailor,  is  WMKftJMteH^ij 


his  home.  Over  hundreds  of  abandoned  farms -^ 
in  New  England  this  legend  might  be  written : 
"  The  old  people  have  all  died  off."  Nobody  left 
in  the  old  county,  so  the  pushing  foreigner 
is  coming  there,  to  found  a  new  community  of 
his  own.  Our  cities  are  cosmopolitan.  Our  young 
man  must  know  how  to  be  a  citizen  of  the  world. 
The  restlessness  of  the  young  man  is  not  his 
alone.  His  sister  expresses  the  same  feeling  in 
ess  ways.  Only  the  exceptional  girl  is 
ntented  to  settle  down  and  be  just  a  home 
ughter,  though  no  situation  on  earth  is  more 
iable  and  no  sphere  more  desirable  than  hers. 
Our  yAt«*g  girls,  partaking  of  the  practical 
period,  long  to  try  their  mettle.  They 
fortably  depend  on  father  or  brother; 
housekeeping  flat  and  savorless,  and 
xdrudgery  of  catering  and  cooking, 
precates  this  general  protest  against  home 
d  hripcs  that  it  maybe  a  transient  symptom, 
vvholesome^(r^^^i»may  follow  it. 
ere  is  the  s^^^^^  of  what  we  call  the 
er  educa^o^^f^wonran.  When  books  and 
Sichers  atid/^^l^^wftT^^uJture  and  mental  dis- 


iplitie  have  f 


upoif  a  girl  of  giving  her 


detachment  from  the  every-day  round,  of  making, 
her  dissatisfied  with  home  hfe  and  incapable  of 
contentment  therein,  for  her  they  have  been  a 
mistake.  That,  in  some  instances,  a  college  grad- 
uate has  been  spoiled  for  domesticity,  argues  noth- 
ing against  a  liberal  education,  the  fault  being 
with  the  student,  not  with  the  college.  It  is  she 
who  does  not  sufficiently  estimate  values.  College 
women  make  a  success  of  home  management 
when  they  devote  their  talents  to  it  as  a  legitimate 
sphere  for  their  powers.  And  we  need  our  young 
women  in  the  numerous  niches  which  only  the 
cultured  can  acceptably  fill,  need  and  must  have 
them.  Our  only  objection  should  be  that,  in  the 
restlessness  that  has  smitten  the  age,  a  girl  chooses 
second  best  when  she  might  have  the  best. 

For  young  people,  the  appropriate  and  heaven-  ^^^ 
sent  coronation  of  their  years  is  love.     If  th( 
miss  love,  they  miss  the  greatest  gift  God  cl 
bestow.     Friendship,  social  reciprocity,  learnij 
beneficence,  travel,  wealth,  accomplishments, 
but  the  ministers  in  the  outer  court.    Love  is 
king  on  the  throne.    In  the  exceeding  ease  of  tl 
bachelor's  days,  when  money  pays-for  much  com^ 
fort;     in    the    excessive    independence    of    me 

[i67]c 


The  Little  Kingdom  of  Home 


m 


laiden's  days,  when  her  own  earnings  supply  her 
with  an  artistic  and  convenient  stopping-place, 
almost  a  home,  but  not  quite,  she  and  he  are 
alike  reluctant  to  be  fettered.  Our  young  people 
smile  in  a  superior  fashion,  and  dare  love  to  find 
a  weak  spot  in  their  armor.  The  old,  old  story 
of  hearts  courageous,  invincible  against  the 
assaults  of  destiny,  because  true  to  one  another 
through  weal  or  woe,  seems  to  have  lost  some  of 
its  fascination.  Nevertheless,  love  is  the  magi- 
cian who  reconciles  opposites,  and  works  mira- 
cles, and  under  whose  spells  the  world  moves 
onward  evermore.  While  the  world  stands,  let  us 
hope  that  young  people  will  fall  in  love. 

ST.  VALENTINE 

With  other  saints  thou  standest, 

Our  sweet  Saint  Valentine, 
But  which  in  all  the  calendar 

Hath  air  of  grace  like  thine, 
So  merry  and  so  tender 

And  courtier-like  and  fine? 


For  thee  no  robe  of  sackcloth, 
Ivet  rich  and  soft, 
ustere,  no  down-dropped  glance  ; 
ravely  shining,  oft 

[1 68] 


As  thou  dost  carry  treasure 
To  palace  and  to  croft. 

Thy  work  is  not  with  toilers, 
Except  to  bring  them  ease, 

Swift  thoughts  from  thee  go  flying  fast 
O'er  deserts  and  o'er  seas ; 

Love  waits  on  whom  thou  choosest 
With  happy  ministries. 

Thy  smile  is  for  the  maiden 
Who  on  life's  threshold  stands, 

And  trustfully  and  fearlessly 
Holds  out  her  empty  hands 

For  thee  to  pour  within  them 
The  largesse  of  all  lands. 

Sweet  saint  of  love,  unending 

Is  thy  long  rule  on  earth, 
Love  dowered  thee  with  blessedness 

At  thine  immortal  birth, 
And  evermore  thy  day  is  kept 

With  festival  and  mirth. 


['71] 


PRING  hath  the  morning  gladness, 
The  sheen  of  budding  leaves, 
And  Summer,  in  her  queenly  lap, 
The  wealth  of  noon  relieves, 
Lnd  Autumn  hath  the  richest  crown. 
The  joy  of  garnered  sheaves. 


[172] 


CHAPTER  XL 


Red-Letter  Days 


ANNIVERSARY  days  are  the  mile-stones 
of  the  home.  They  Hft  their  faces  cheer- 
ily marking  the  halting-places  in  life's 
journey.  Here  at  such  a  point  we  had  a  piece 
of  rare  good  fortune.  There  we  met  a  friend 
who  became  our  alter  ego.  On  such  a  day,  sud- 
denly, out  of  space,  as  a  ship  looms  up  in  the  off- 
ing, an  expected  word  was  spoken  in  our  ears, 
and  the  answer  to  it  changed  our  life  for.  the  rest 
of  the  way. 

As  mountains  diversify  the  landscape,  our  red- 
letter  days  break  the  level  monotony  of  the  road. 
The  day  of  betrothal,  the  wedding-day,  the  births 
days,  and  holidays,  each  and  all  arrive  wearii 
an  air  of  festival,  and  robed,  so  to  speak,  in  whke 
raiment.    Tliey  are  chief  in  the  procession  of 
year,  and  not  to  be  overlooked  by  any  who 
the  poetry  of  life,  and  are  not  to  be  satisfied 
its  plain  prose. 

In  the  familiar  stanzc 


The  king  was  in  the  parlor, 

Counting  out  his  money. 
The  queen  was  in  the  kitchen, 

Eating  bread  and  honey." 

On  the  red-letter  days  the  king  may  pause,  if  he 
will,  for  a  little  while  in  his  delving,  his  plough- 
ing, his  reaping,  his  sowing,  his  buying,  and  his 
selling.  At  least  he  may  come  home  an  hour 
earlier  at  night,  and  bring  with  him  a  mood  of 
anticipation.  And  the  queen,  she  who  sews 
d  cooks  and  mends  and  darns  and  makes  the 
ildren's  clothes,  and  hears  their  lessons,  may 
p  for  a  little  while,  and  both  may  eat  their  daily 
ead  withb^ey  that  will  sweeten  its  flavor.  A 
(ender  ^OT^nient  should  invest  our  red-letter  days. 
Id  because  we  are  so  reluctant  to  take 
e  fof^lay.  We  grow  old  because  we  forget 
lat  romawce  is  the  world's  great  rejuvenator. 
fanc^i^se^e  growing  rich  when  we  are  being 
de  ready  for  the  poorhouse,  so  tattered  are  the 
rnients  of  our  gladness,  so  unready  are  our 
for  song,  s^^ripty  are  our  purses  of  the 
€!n|^BHkjp|^rompliment  and  courtesy, 
e  red-lettg^^ife^ce  reminders  of  our  real 
cst^le  p|_j|)^^^V*^^wfTT^  possess  broad  acres, 


or  pack  our  harvests  in  byre  and  bin,  yet  we, 
may  be  numbered  by  the  angel  who  keeps  the 
records  as  among  the  multi-miUionaires  of  earth. 
Wonderful  is  the  luck  of  the  light-hearted.  "  A 
merry  heart,"  says  the  best  of  Books,  "  is  a  con- 
tinual feast."  "  A  merry  heart  goes  all  the  way. 
The  sad  heart  tires  in  a  mile." 

How  the  hours  creep,  when  griefs  get  the 
upper  hand !  What  a  dead  weight  is  depression ! 
They  who  keep  blithely  their  red-letter  days, 
cheat  melancholy  and  drive  gloom  from  the  door. 
It  is  hard  work  to  climb  a  hill  with  the  mist  in 
one's  face,  but  mists  fly  before  the  sunlight,  and 
from  rests  on  the  hillside,  as  we  ascend,  we 
see  fair  reaches  of  plain  and  valley,  and  rejoice 
that  we  are  so  far  on  the  safe  upward-tending 
path. 

Those  who  bravely  and  buoyantly  keep  the 
red-letter  days  need  never  fear  the  ravages 
time.    Browning's  is  the  cheerful  philosophy 
life  well-spent. 

«'  Grow  old  along  with  me ! 
The  best  is  yet  to  be, 
The  last  of  life,  for  which  the  first 
Our  times  are  in  His  hand 

['75] 


"  Rejoice  we  are  allied 

To  that  which  doth  provide 

And  not  partake,  effect  and  not  receive ! 

A  spark  disturbs  our  clod  ; 

Nearer  we  hold  of  God 

Who  gives,  than  of  his  tribes  that  take,  I  must  believe. 


"  Then,  welcome  each  rebuff 

That  turns  earth's  smoothness  rough, 

Each  sting  that  bids  nor  sit  nor  stand  but  go ! 

Be  our  joys  three-parts  pain  ! 

Strive,  and  hold  cheap  the  strain  ; 

Learn,  nor  account  the  pang ;  dare,  never  grudge  the  throe. 

"  For  thence,  —  a  paradox 
Which  comforts  while  it  mocks,  — 
Shall  life  succeed  in  that  it  seems  to  fail: 
What  I  aspired  to  be, 
nd  was  not,  comforts  me : 
rute  I  might  have  been,  but  would  not  sink  i'  the  scale. 


herefore  I  summon  age 
grant  youth's  heritage, 
's  struggle  having  so  far  reached  its  term: 
nee  jSbaHi^oass  approved 
A  maD}  fwuMk^funoved 

ed  brute ;  a  God  though  in  the  germ. 

^  [176] 


Fancies  that  broke  through  language  and  escaped ; 

All  I  could  never  be, 

All,  men  ignored  in  me, 

This,  I  was  worth  to  God,  whose  wheel  the  pitcher  shaped 


"  Look  not  thou  down,  but  up  ! 
To  uses  of  a  cup. 

The  festal  board,  lamp's  flash  and  trumpet's  peal, 
The  new  wine's  foaming  flow, 
The  Master's  lips  aglow  ! 

Thou,  heaven's  consummate  cup,  what  needest  thou  with 
earth's  wheel  ? " 


Some  one  once  asked  a  very  beautiful  old  lady, 
Mrs.  Duncan  Stewart,  "Is  life  worth  living?" 

"Ah,"    she   answered,    "to    the   very   dregs." 
None  feel  this  who  suffer  life  to  drift  into  the 
commonplace,  who  never  catch  a  glimpse  of  some- 
thing in  it,  worth  holding  fast  and  deeply  treastt 
ing. 

Among  the  heroes  who  won  their  laurels 
life's  battle-field  by  steadfast  courage  and  indor 
itable    fortitude,    who   made   their   darkest   dj 
red-letter  days  by  pluck  and  splendid  cheer, 
relentless   will,   none   r^^K^iiifflfeto:^^^.; 


Louis  Stevenson. 
1893: 

"  For  fourteen  years  I  have  not  had  a  day's 
real  health;  I  have  wakened  sick  and  gone  to 
bed  weary,  and  I  have  done  my  work  unflinch- 
ingly. I  have  written  in  bed  and  written  out  of 
it,  written  in  hemorrhages,  written  in  sickness; 
and  for  so  long,  it  seems  to  me  I  have  won  my 
wage  and  recovered  my  glove.  I  am  better  now, 
ave  been,  rightly  speaking,  since  first  I  came  to 
e  Pacific :  and  still,  few  are  the  days  when  I  am 
ot  in  some  physical  distress.  And  the  battle 
s  on,  —  ill  or  well  is  a  trifle,  so  it  goes.  I  was 
for  a  cdfttest,  and  the  Powers  have  so  willed 
hat  m^^^ttle-field  shall  be  this  dingy,  inglorious 
bed  and  the  physic  bottle." 
test  of  the  true  greatness  of  a  human 
buld  hardly  be  found  than  in  a  statement 
his,  f61')-«i  Stevenson's  memoirs,  the  domi- 
it  note  is*m  cheer.  There  were  red-letter  days 
Samoa,  when  Inen  crNlifferent  races  made  the 
st  of  life  in  common,  where  all  loved  the  man 
fciUeJji  death  so  stubbornly  and  bore  himself 

quiet  street  in  a  coast 


town  has  for  its  mistress  and  guiding  spirit/;; 
a  woman  who,  for  a  score  of  years,  has  been  Hter- 
ally  chained  to  a  couch  of  pain,  often  a  couch  of 
torture.  She  has  hidden  her  poor  knotted  hands 
under  the  coverlet,  and  smiled  brightly  when 
friends  entered  her  oom.  Anguish  has  beaded 
her  brow,  but  has  wrung  no  moan  from  her  lips. 
Directing,  controlling,  influencing,  arranging 
every  process  and  every  detail  of  her  household 
economy,  she  has  ordained  red-letter  days  for 
husband  and  children,  though  she  could  not  per- 
sonally share  them.  Music  and  gaiety  have  never 
been  absent ;  her  boys  have  had  their  mother 
for  their  friend  and  counsellor,  and  have  learned 
gentleness  beside  her  bed.  Their  young  com- 
panions have  not  been  exiled  from  the  house, 
nor  obliged  to  restrain  their  mirth  when  in  it, 
except  that  sometimes  they  have  been  cautione 
to  tread  softly  when  passing  "  Mother's  "  d( 
Though  suffering  and  incurable  invalidism  h? 
been  this  mother's  portion,  the  household  annil 
saries  have  never  known  omission,  and  each  bil 
day  dinner,  to  the  cake  and  the  candles,  have 
planned  as  though  the  mother  m^^tjierself  pre^ 
side  at  the  table. 

[179 


The  Little  Kingdom  of  Home 


There  are  red-letter  days  of  which  we  never 
speak,  but  for  which  reverently  and  gratefully  we 
thank  God.  Have  we  not  had  hours  of  tempta- 
tion when  the  struggle  was  long  and  severe,  but 
when  the  better  nature  triumphed  ? 

"  For  right  is  right,  since  God  is  God, 
And  right  the  day  must  win. 
To  doubt  would  be  disloyalty ; 
To  falter  would  be  sin." 


For  victories  that  only  the  angels  witnessed  we 
must  raise  our  stones  of  memory. 

After  repeated  defeats  and  the  trial  of  faith 
that  follows  hope  deferred,  we  have  had  the  joy 
of  success.     When  Cyrus  Field  was  laying  the 
first  Atlantic  cable,  the  world  looked  on,  doubt- 
ful that  so  strange  and  bold  an  undertaking  could 
be   carried    forward,    and   the   first    failure   was 
pted  by  most  people  on  both  sides  of  the  ocean 
ly  what  might  have  been  predicted.     But 
Field  had  vision  and  had  courage.     He  rose 
ulj^aunted  and  tried  again.     When  final  success 
and     the     message     "  What    hath     God 
s  flashed  beneath  the  waves  from 
rid  to  the  other,  the  nations  had 

[iSo] 


a  red-letter  day,  the  glow  of  which  has  neve 
faded. 

After  all,  the  children  are  to  be  first  considered. 
Their  right  to  a  cloudless  childhood  should  be 
respected  by  older  people,  and  every  little  man 
and  woman  should  have  a  birthday  fete.  Bless- 
ings on  them,  they  are  always  going  on,  never 
standing  still.  They  are  grasping  the  future  with 
their  rosy  fingers ;  they  tell  you  they  are  in  their 
seventh  year  when,  a  week  ago,  they  were  only 
six.  Let  them  have  a  party  and  a  cake,  and 
some  beautiful  surprise  as  often  as  a  birthday 
dawns  for  them. 

Into  their  happy  fairy-land,  their  innocent 
realm  of  make-believe,  you  and  I  may  not  pene- 
trate, having  lost  the  key  somewhere  in  the  rub- 
bish heaps  of  experience  and  disillusion,  but  we 
will  not  try  to  draw  them  from  it.  Down 
green  avenues,  through  its  groves  and  dells, 
may  wander,  hand  in  hand,  and,  quite  with 
our  understanding,  they  may  be  princes 
princesses  there.  Childhood's  realm  has  its  o 
red-letter  days. 

The  most  glorious  ot^^f  the  whoje^yei 
children  of  every  age  |^mMm^^^^  eighfvT^s 

P  C'8 


Hiristmas  Day.  The  angels  sang  its  dawning, 
over  the  sleeping  fields  of  Bethlehem,  centuries 
ago,  when  "  shepherds  watched  their  flocks  by 
night." 

A  great  white  star,  flaming  in  the  sky,  guarded 
the  caravan  of  the  three  Eastern  kings,  Caspar, 
Melchior,  and  Balthazar,  until  they  came  to  the 
place  where  they  found  the  young  Child  and  His 
mother,  and  kneeling  in  the  stable  door,  they 
^red  Him  their  gifts,  gold  and  frankincense 
myrrh, 
[^rom  that  day  till  this  we  have  been  subjects 
the  beautiful  kingdom  of  the  Child.  And  the 
ourselves  like  little  children,  simple 
md  easily  pleased,  the  more  we  love  as 
f,  and  learn  as  children  learn,  the  more 
^nter  that  Kingdom  of  Heaven,  which 
of  the  pure  in  heart. 

The  Star  rains  its  fire, 
''"      And  WeC^sisSS^l  sing, 

^ethlehem 

> 

le  that  has  a  child  in 
^n^he   globe,    there    is    also   the 


-thought  of  the  Child  who  was  the  Son  of  God,  J\^ 
but  who  slept  in  the  arms  of  the  sweet  mother, 
Mary  of  Judea,  who  gave  Him  birth.  Christmas 
is  the  red-letter  day  of  every  kindred,  tribe,  and 
nation.  Wherever  the  sun  now  rises,  it  rises  on 
some,  hitherto  in  the  darkness  of  heathendom, 
who  are  finding  out  the  significance  of  the  true 
light. 

We  bring  holly  and  cedar,  pine  and  fir,  mistle- 
toe and  every  green  bough  and  spicy  branch  we 
can  find  in  forest  or  thicket,  and  garland  our 
houses  and  our  churches  in  the  Yule-tide.  The 
shops  glitter  with  the  year's  most  bewildering 
variety  of  toys  and  stuflfs,  jewels  and  furniture. 
One  might  do  worse  than  travel  leagues  over 
land  and  sea,  to  mingle  in  the  Christmas  throngs. 
The  streets  are  crowded  with  good-humored 
people  intent  on  making  somebody  happy. 

When   Christmas   eve   arrives,   the   twinklin 
tapers  shine  on  millions  of  Christmas-trees,  thq 
branches  laden  with  presents,  for  old  and  youn 
On  Christmas  morning  there  are  stir  and  bust- 
everywhere,  for  the  stockings  hang  in  the  chim 
ney,  and  Santa  Claus  came  downtn  the  night 
and  filled  them.    Some  of  us  dream  that  we  h« 

[183] 


prancing  hoofs  of  the  reindeer  on  the  house- 
tops, and  some  of  us  catch  a  ghmpse  of  his  dear 
old  face,  as  he  looks  with  a  laugh  in  his  eye 
at  the  beds  where  the  children  sleep.  It  is  only 
the  churl  who  does  not  believe  in  the  charming 
myth  of  Santa  Claus.  Only  Mr.  Gradgrind, 
clamoring  for  facts,  and  losing  realities  in  the 
search  for  dry-as-dust  statistics,  is  afraid  to^  let 
the  children  pin  their  faith  to  the  sweetest  sa«int 
in  the  calendar. 

Gold  and  frankincense  and  myrrh!  We  bring 
them,  too,  the  gold  of  penitence,  the  frankincense 
of  devotion,  the  myrrh  of  love,  and  lay  them  at 
the  feet  of  the  Kingly  Child.  We,  too,  listen, 
and  hear  the  clashing  of  the  golden  harps.  Hark ! 
through  earth's  clangor  falls  the  sweetness  of  a 
melody  such  as  earth  has  never  heard!  The  an- 
j;els  sing !    Their  song  has  never  ceased. 

•»  Still  through  the  cloven  skies  they  come 
With  peaceful  wings  unfurled, 
And  still  celestial  music  floats 
O'er  all  the  weary  world. 
Above  its  sad  and  lonely  plains, 
end  on  heavenly  wing 
r  o'er  its  Babel  sounds 
essed  angels  sing  !  " 

[184] 


"  Christmas  is  the  world's  red-letter 
Close  following  it,  the  New  Year  enters.  A  purely- 
arbitrary  division  of  time,  yet  with  a  feeling  of 
relief  we  let  the  old  year  go,  and  welcome  the 
new  year  in. 

««  Ring  out,  wild  bells,  to  the  wild  sky !  " 

We  have  made  mistakes  in  the  past ;  we  mean 
to  rectify  them.  The  New  Year  is  the  time  for 
turning  over  new  leaves.  Welcome  the  white 
page!  With  care  let  us  write  on  its  stainless 
surface.  Welcome  the  new  number  on  our  letters, 
the  new  date,  the  new  chance  to  make  amends  for 
past  failures  and  start  on  a  new  course  of  in- 
dustry, kindness,  and  the  perseverance  in  well- 
doing that  wins  divine  approval. 

In   every   home   there   is   a   thrill   of  hope,   a^ 
breath  of  uplift  at  the  sound  of  "  A  Happy  Ne^ 
Year!" 

So  it  is  Home's  red-letter  day  I 


THE   SINISTER    INFLUENCE   OF 

WORRY 


[187] 


'ir.i?:>5tZ 


P 


^OD  keep  us  through  the  common  di 
The  level  stretches  white  with  dust, 
^^hen  thought  is  tired,  and  hands  upraise 
^ir  burdens   feebly,   since  they  must, 
lays  of  slowly  fretting  care, 
■n,  most,  we  need  the  strength  of  praye 


[1 88] 


The  Sinister  Influence  of  Worry 

TO  worry  is  the  inevitable  habit  of  the  man 
or  woman  who  has  not  learned  the  great 
lesson  of  living  one  day  at  a  time. 
"  Take  short  views !  "  said  Sydney  Smith.  Noth- 
ing so  eats  up  the  very  fabric  of  the  soul,  wearing 
out  courage  and  patience,  and  destroying  good 
cheer,  as  does  the  disposition  that  worries.  To- 
morrow, gaunt  and  spectral,  threatening  of  aspect, 
foreboding  disaster,  blots  out  the  sunshine  of 
to-day  for  the  one  who  worries. 

Usually  we  can  bear  the  ills  and  troubles  we 
have.  Somehow  we  struggle  through  them,  even 
against  odds.  When  we  lie  awake  at  night  or  at 
two  o'clock  in  the  morning,  fancying  the  possibj 
calamities  that  await  us  with  the  rising  of 
sun,  all  our  strength  goes.  We  have  no  buoyat 
left,  no  fortitude,  no  vigor  to  resist,  and  we  a! 
prostrate  at  the  feet  of  our  enemy.  Worry  is 
fruitful  source  of  ill-health,  low  spirits,  and^ 
sanity.    The  one  who  wc 


over  a  single  misfortune,  or  overcrowding  dis^ 
appointments  and  vexations,  till  the  will  is  par- 
alyzed and  the  heart  itself  turns  traitor,  and  the 
battle  is  lost. 

Women  at  home  are  tempted  to  the  sin  of 
worry  by  many  little  things  which  in  the  total 
make  a  large  amount.  They  worry  because  they 
fear  the  husband  and  father  is  breaking  in  health. 
When  he  comes  home,  at  nightfall,  weary,  per- 
laps  cross,  they  note  that  his  shoulders  are  round- 
and  his  hair  that  was  black  as  the  raven's 
'ing  is  turning  gray,  and  his  temper  is  less 
jeery  than  it  used  to  be.  To  his  worry  they 
imediatelyiflild  their  own,  and  the  atmosphere 
trows  h^^,  and  the  home  is  dull.  No  wonder 
ie  young  people  fly  from  it.  The  wife  may  have 
'reason  to  look  after  her  husband's  health 
id  s^58jfgth,  but  there  are  better  ways  than  the 
to  do  this.  Worry  never  yet  cured 
in  ill,  it  never  soothed  an  ache  or 
irksome  load,  or  easier 

ills  is  in  greater  sim- 
d  to  this,  as  inestimable, 
serene  faith. 


«'  Look  up  and  not  down, 
Look  out  and  not  in, 
Look  forward  and  not  back, 
And  lend  a  hand  !  " 

Mothers  worry  because  their  sons  are  drifting 
into  dangerous  associations.  Worrying  first,  they 
nag  next,  and  nothing  so  kills  filial  confidence  and 
accelerates  a  young  man's  downward  fall  as  nag- 
ging and  faultfinding.  If  you  want  people  to 
be  good  you  must  make  them  happy. 

Girls  worry  lest  they  did  not  say  the  right 
thing,  lest  they  made  a  wrong  impression.  The 
oversensitive  nature  is  sure  that  it  blundered, 
and  worries  lest  it  did  some  harm  in  deed  or 
word.  People  who  are  in  comfortable  circum- 
stances worry  lest  they  shall  end  in  poverty.  Rich 
people  worry  because  they  are  not  richer.  Poor 
people  worry  about  the  rent  and  the  coal  bill  a 
to-morrow's  loaf.  Deep  lines  are  graven  on  h 
gard  faces  by  worry.  The  anxious  pucker 
tween  the  eyes,  the  crow's-feet,  the  drawn, 
tressed  expression,  indicative  of  a  sleepless  w 
for  a  coming  ill,  tell  the  sad  life-story  of  ma 
a  soul  that  has  never  been  abl^^^o^se 
the  pressure  of  carking  care 

[191 


The  Little  Kingdom  of  Home 


c^ 


§ 


Ages  before  "  Don't  Worry  "  clubs  were  or- 
ganized for  the  help  of  women  beleaguered  on 
every  side  by  timid  and  baleful  thoughts,  by  sus- 
picions of  lurking  foes  ready  to  pounce  upon 
them,  there  was  One  in  old  Judea,  who  said, 
"  Take  no  thought  for  your  life,  what  ye  shall 
eat,  or  what  ye  shall  drink,  or  yet  for  your  body, 
what  ye  shall  put  on.  Is  not  the  life  more  than 
meat  and  the  body  than  raiment?  Behold  the 
fowls  of  the  air;  for  they  sow  not,  neither  do 
they  reap,  nor  gather  into  barns ;  yet  your 
Heavenly  Father  feedeth  them.  Are  ye  not  much 
better  than  they? 

"  Which  of  you  by  taking  thought  can  add  one 
cubit  unto  his  stature?  And  why  take  ye  thought 
for  raiment?  Consider  the  lilies  of  the  field 
how  they  grow;  they  toil  not,  neither  do  they 
spin.  And  yet,  I  say  unto  you,  that  even  Solo- 
in  all  h?6  glory  was  not  arrayed  like  one 


ese. 


Wherefore  if  God  so  clothed  the  grass  of  the 

*d  which  to-day  is,  and  to-morrow  is  cast  into 

yen,  shall  he  not  much  more  clothe  you,  O  ye 

leTai^.^  , 

take  no  thought,  saying  what  shall 

[192] 


The  biaiitcr  IiiJIueitce  of  J'Vorry 


7^ 

We  eat,  or  what  shall  we  drink,  or  wherewithal^ 
shall  we  be  clothed  ? 

"  For  after  all  these  things  do  the  Gentiles 
seek,  for  your  Heavenly  Father  knoweth  that  ye 
have  need  of  all  these  things. 

"  But  seek  ye  first  the  kingdom  of  God  and  his 
righteousness,  and  all  these  things  shall  be  added 
unto  you. 

"  Take,  therefore,  no  thought  for  the  morrow, 
for  the  morrow  shall  take  thought  for  the  things 
of  itself.  Sufficient  unto  the  day  is  the  evil 
thereof." 

This  sublime  passage  from  the  Sermon  on  the 
Mount  is  the  chart  by  which,  if  we  sail,  we  shall 
not  worry.     The  constant  thought  that  we  are 
in  God's  care,  that  his  benignant  love  is  over  us, 
the  realization  that  if  we  follow  a  noble  ideal, 
God  will  aid  us  in  the  daily  needs,  will  enabl 
us  to  walk  valiantly  and  joyously  on  the  ro 
not  cringingly  and  servilely,  as  those  who  fe^ 
an  attack  they  cannot  foil. 

To  live  victoriously  we  must  live  in  communio; 
with  an  unseen  but  present  God ;    to  reign  o 
whatever  may  oppose  its^f  to  our  tranquil 
posure,  we  must  derive 


prayer.      If    you    are    tempted    to    worry,    seel 
strength  from  above  yourself. 

Tell  the  Father  about  the  heartache, 

And  tell  Him  the  longings,  too, 
Tell  Him  the  baffled  purpose, 

When  we  scarce  know  what  to  do: 
Then  leaving  all  our  weakness 

With  the  One  divinely  strong, 
Forget  that  we  bore  the  burden, 

And  carry  away  the  song. 


MacDonald  has  said,  "  You  have  a  dis- 

jreeable  duty  to  do  at  twelve  o'clock.     Do  not 

lacken  nin^fand  ten,  and  eleven,  and  all  between 

ith  tl:^xo\oT  of  twelve.     Do  the  work  of  each, 

your  reward  of  peace.     So,  when  the 

loment  in  the  future  becomes  the  pres- 

lall  meet  it  walking  in  the  light,  and 

overcome  its  darkness.     The  best 

iTls^  the  present  well  seen  to,  the  last 

keep  the  eye  so  clear 

ht  that  the  right  action 

,  the  right  words  will 

the  lips,  and  the  man, 

because  he  cares  for 


[194] 


The  Sinister  Influence  of  Worry 


■nothing  but  the  will  of  God,  will  trample  on  the^ 
evil  thing  in  love,  and  be  sent,  it  may  be,  in  a 
chariot  of  fire  to  the  presence  of  his  Father,  or 
stand  unmoved  amid  the  cruel  mockings  of  the 
men  he  loves." 

Our  minds  are  very  apt  to  run  into  ruts.  We 
may  establish  a  custom  of  fretting  and  forebod- 
ing from  which  we  cannot  easily  escape.  Yet 
how  often  have  we  found  that  the  very  things  we 
most  dreaded  have  melted  away  when  we  reached 
them.  Grasp  the  nettle  firmly  and  it  will  not 
hurt  you.  It  is  the  hesitating,  purposeless  hand 
that  is  wounded. 

Anxiety  about  ways  and  means  is  natural 
enough,  and  the  only  remedy  for  it  is  a  super- 
natural one,  or,  rather,  a  vital  belief  in  that 
supernatural  force  which  easily  overcomes  what 
is  beyond  our  strength.  The  little  child,  walkirj 
with  his  father,  fears  nothing.  It  was  Dav 
the  shepherd  boy,  scarcely  beyond  his  childho^ 
who  vanquished  the  giant  Goliath,  and  who 
to  the  great  king,  "  Thy  servant  kept  his  fathj 
sheep,  and  there  came  both  a  lion  and  a  bear  ai 
took  a  lamb  out  of  the  flock.  TlaaCiSetyant 
both  the  lion  and  the  bear," 

[■95] 


The  Little  Kingdom  of  Home 


In  childhood  and  youth  we  do  not  worry.  It 
is  the  besetting  sin  of  maturity,  when  we  have 
lost  the  beautiful  heart  of  childhood  somewhere 
on  the  path,  strewn  with  our  needless  defects  and 
our  broken  resolves.  Solicitude  on  our  own  ac- 
count is  less  wearing  than  undue  anxiety  about 
others.  The  woman  who  lives  as  some,  alas !  do, 
under  the  menace  of  an  ill  that  only  the  surgeon's 
knife  can  cure,  is  braver,  more  sanguine,  more 
heroic,  than  her  friends,  who  die  a  hundred  deaths 
in  fearing  hers.  Yet  this  worry  only  decreases 
our  courage  and  saps  our  strength.  We  are  not 
able  to  be  at  our  best  when  with  the  invalid. 
Our  faces  darken  her  sky.  Here,  too,  we  can 
only  "  rest  in  the  Lord  and  wait  patiently  for 
him." 

The   only   elevation   high   enough   to    feel   no 
breath  of  earthly  worry,  is  the  table-land  of  faith 
ur  divine  helper. 

good  deal  of  our  worry  has  its  root  in  im- 

ence.      We    are    like    children    who    plant 

f^mvers   and   pull   them   up  to   see   them   grow. 

Hurry  and  worry  are  twin  fiends,  who  lay  waste 

"Gtif '<teY^?MSn£  might  learn  from  nature,  with  her 

ces  and  her  spaces  of  long  wait- 

[196] 


;er 


The  Sinister  Influence  of  JVorry 


ing,  that  results  must  follow  after  causes  that 
have  taken  time  and  pains.  The  weed  that 
springs  to  its  full  height  in  a  month  is  withered 
at  the  first  frost.  The  oak  that  has  seen  the 
clouds  and  snows,  and  cradled  the  birds  of  a 
century's  spring,  took  generations  to  reach  its 
lofty  height,  and  the  storms  never  touch  its 
strength. 

Nothing  is  so  undignified  as  haste.  It  is 
twin  brother  to  waste.  Work  as  strenuously,  as 
unrestingly,  as  you  choose,  but  let  every  stroke 
tell ;  let  there  be  no  hurried  scamping,  no  worry 
lest  the  end  shall  not  match  the  hope. 

Doubtless  there  are  those  who  fancy  that  calm 
waiting  or  impetuous  hurrying,  that  serene  phi- 
losophy or   peevish   worry,   are  alike  to  be   set 
down  to  the  account  of  temperament.     Training, 
they  claim,  and  native  traits  make  the  difference  I'^Wj/^ 
between  the  person  who  is  controlled  in  man 
and  spirit  and  the  person  who  has  no  self-restraj 
and  worries  until  the  raiment  of  her  soul  r 
thing  of  shreds  and  patches. 

In  very  truth,  worry  is  an  affair  of  the 
and  of  discipline.     The  gpldier,  drilled  and>^rd 
ened  by  long  campaign 


M'$x. 


vV 


a  stoicism  not  to  be  found  in  the  brilliant  but 
untrained  volunteer.  Life  does  little  for  us,  if  it 
do  not  so  mould  us  that  we  may  be  sovereigns 
over  our  original  temperament,  that  we  may  over- 
come the  handicaps  of  heredity,  that  we  may  be 
strong,  though  when  we  started  out  we  were 
weak. 

A  characteristic  of  all  malarious  germs  is  to 
spread  subtly  and  undermine  treacherously,  wher- 
IT  they  obtain  a  foothold.     One  worrying  per- 
^n  in  a  household  lowers  the  tone  of  all.     One 
10  worries,  where  others  are  cheerful  and  brave, 
[roduces  co^i^rdice  and  the  temptation  to  desert 
orry,   in  its  malignant   forms,   is 
a  plague,   and  may  lead  to  almost 
ul  end.     The  despair  that  eventuates 
ate  dread  was  born  of  a  small  worry, 
ain  ground   in   the  garden   of  the 


how  may  it  be  over- 
given  :    in  recourse 
It  may  spring  from 
iiitense  absorption  in  a 
erwork.      The   man 
^rs  at  his  desk  in  the 


The  Sinister  Influence  of  PVorry 


office  when  he  ought  to  leave  it  and  go  home 
the  woman  who  spends  her  vitahty  recklessly  in 
the  elaborate  clothing  she  makes  for  her  children, 
the  householder  who  mortgages  his  property  that 
he  may  live  in  a  style  befitting  his  wealthier 
neighbor,  the  citizen  who  runs  for  an  office  and 
breaks  his  heart  over  a  defeat,  the  student 
ambitious  to  excel  and  yet  fond  of  pleasure,  who 
therefore  burns  his  candle  at  both  ends,  all  invite 
worry  by  the  unwise  preoccupation  of  their  lives, 
and  the  burdens  too  heavy  for  their  strength. 

A  business  man  who  never  takes  a  vacation,  a 
devoted  mother  who  never  leaves  her  children  for 
so  much  as  a  night,  a  slave  of  any  sort,  whose 
tasks  become  compulsory  and  is  driven  by  his 
or  her  work,  is  in  peril  of  worry  by  reason  of  that 
work. 

The  ethical  value  of  rest  is  not  appreciated 
it  should  be  in  a  complex  and  relentless  civili 
tion  like  ours.     Primitive  peoples  do  not  wor< 
Where  the  artificial  wants  are  few,  and  the 
sires  are  quickly  satisfied,  brain-fag  is  unknov 
Wherefore  it  has  come  to  pass  that  nerve  specia 
ists  amass  fortunes,  that  sanitarlun'is  are  crowde 
that    nervous    exhaustion   and    other    fonns    of 

[199] 


nervous  malady  are  multiplied,  and,  in  the  midst 
of  their  years  and  activities,  people  are  laid 
aside,  and  sent  for  rehabilitation  to  a  rest-cure. 
Why  should  not  every  home  be  a  rest-cure  ? 
For  the  overworked  woman,  daily  rest  of  the 
whole  of  her,  mind  and  body  alike,  is  important. 
Her  half-hour  before  or  after  luncheon,  in  which 
she  lies  down,  thinks  of  nothing,  sleeps  if  she 
can,  and  fully  relaxes,  will  add  years  to  her  life. 
Women  often  fret  because  they  are  far  too  weary. 
The  voice  is  a  good  barometer.  If  its  tones 
begin  to  sharpen  and  its  cadences  are  too  jerky, 
its  inflections  too  emphatic,  the  signal  is  for 
stormy  weather.  Stop,  rest,  be  silent.  Never  let 
the  day  pass  that  has  not  its  blessedness  of  silent 
time,  morning,  noon,  or  night. 

Ah !    cries  the  busy  housemother,  where  am  I 

find  my  pause  for  rest?    If,  literally,  you  can- 

ifind  it  in  your  own  house,  run  away  from 

ind  hire  a  room  next  door.     That  will  cost 

than  a  voyage  across  the  Atlantic,  or  three 

>nths  in  a  sanitarium.     Should  death  slip  in, 

^ould  get  on  without  you.     Indis- 

are  to  their  comfort,  they  would 

[200] 


j^    The  Sinister  Influence  of  Worry 

somehow  manage  to  live  should  you  be  sent  to- 
the  insane  asylum. 

To  dominate  the  tendency  to  worry  is  the 
manifest  and  present  duty  of  every  woman,  and 
every  man  who  loves  his  home  and  longs  to  serve 
the  Lord  and  humanity. 


[201] 


[203] 


[204] 


CHAPTER  XIII. 


The  House  of  Feasting 


FROM  remote  antiquity  the  impulse  of  the 
liost  has  been  to  offer  entertainment  to 
the  guest  in  the  breaking  of  bread.  The 
wayfarer  appeahng  to  the  desert  tent  is  made  free 
of  loaf  and  cup.  A  king  in  his  palace  can  do 
no  more  for  a  princely  visitor  than  to  give  him 
bed  and  board.  The  true  essence  of  hospitality 
is  in  the  spirit,  and  not  in  the  letter. 

Soon  after  our  Civil  War  I  was  invited  to 
share  a  meal  in  a  Virginia  home,  which,  liter- 
ally, had  been  swept  by  fire  and  sword  until 
little  remained  of  it  but  the  empty  shell  of  what 
was  once  an  ample  mansion  equipped  with  ever^ 
luxury.  There  was  nothing  to  eat  that  day  ej 
cept  corn  bread  baked  on  the  coals,  and  a  cu| 
of  coffee,  but  the  gracious  air  with  which 
plain  refreshment  was  served  has  lingered 
memory  ever  since.  Not  what  we  give,  but 
heart  behind  the  gift,  makes  true  hospitc 
"  Tlie  gift  without  the; 


The  Little  Kingdojn  of  Home 


In  new  countries,  where  the  elemental  virtues^ 
prevail,  there  is  seldom  hesitation  in  asking  any 
one,  friend  or  stranger,  to  partake  of  what  one 
has,  the  family  cheerfully  consenting  to  sit  closer, 
or  resign  their  sleeping-places,  if  needed,  that  the 
welcome  guest  may  be  accommodated  under  the 
roof.  Most  of  us  recall,  with  a  shade  of  surprise 
at  its  contrast  between  present  conditions,  the 
open-handed,  large-hearted  hospitality  of  the  old 
^ome  on  the  farm,  or  of  the  village  in  which  we 
children.  Gradually,  in  the  more  complex 
Jrdering  of  American  life,  a  change  has  crept 
'^er  household  economy,  as  well  as  our  house- 
In  cities  where  thousands  of 
obliged  to  live  in  apartments,  and  in 
ry  inch  of  room  is  valuable,  it  is  no 
custom  to  have  company  as  freely  as 
some  cases,  where  the  bonds  of  kin- 
I  firmly,  or  where  old  friends  cling 
Eions,  people  do  not  mind  turning 
encampments,  though 
logy  or  a  half-whimsi- 
'mjuryP  I  have  known  more 
lye  given  up  life  in  the 
>f  quarters  at  a  hotel, 


in  order  that  they  might  rid  themselves  of  the, 
incursions  of  superfluous  friends  and  relatives, 
whom  they  did  not  wish  any  longer  to  entertain. 
The  passing  of  the  guest-chamber  is  a  feature 
of  our  time.  Yet,  in  the  true  home,  there  should 
be,  if  possible,  a  provision  made  for  the  housing, 
and  otherwise  accommodating,  the  transient  or 
the  permanent  friend  of  the  family,  who  comes 
with  acclaim,  and  brings  joy.  The  outsider 
brings  in  a  breath  of  something  different  and  an- 
imating, breaks  the  rigidity  of  the  routine,  en- 
livens the  home  group,  induces  the  practice  of 
courtesy,  and  assists  in  more  ways  than  one  in 
educating  the  children.  The  home  is  twice  a 
home  if  it  allow  a  margin  for  real  hospitality. 

Shall   we  glance  at   the   guest-chamber   as   it 
should  be,  granting  that  one  can  spare  a  place  to^ 
be  thus  set  aside?    It  may  be  large  or  small, 
cording  to  the  house  to  which  it  appertains, 
think  of  one  guest-chamber,  called  in  the  beaut} 
mansion,  where  I  have  enjoyed  its  privileges, 
Chamber  of  Peace.     In  the  morning  it  is  flooc 
with  sunshine,  and  all  day  long  the  trees  wa^ 
their   branches   outside    its    w^^^^^^  Nothii 
has  been  omitted  in  this  state! 

[207]' 


The  Little  Kingdom  of  Home 


minister  to  the  comfort  and  convenience  of  any- 
guest,  yet  it  is  not  more  perfect,  in  its  way,  than 
a  Httle  corner  room,  a  third  its  size,  in  a  smaller 
house,  where  also  a  gracious  hospitality  is  fre- 
quently exercised. 

The  first  necessity  of  the  guest-chamber  is  a 
good  bed,  on  which  a  tired  body  may  find  re- 
freshing sleep  and  a  tired  mind  lose  itself  in  happy 
dreams.  Lace  coverlets  and  embroidered  pillow- 
shams  may  be  done  without,  but  mattress,  springs, 
sheets,  and  pillows  should  all  be  excellent  of  their 
kind.  The  guest  should  have  needful  toilet  ar- 
rangements in  this  room,  including  every  little 
thing  that  refined  people  expect  in  their  dressing 
and  undressing.  A  table  with  a  book  or  two, 
note-paper  and  envelopes,  pens  and  ink,  a  calen- 
dar, sewing  materials,  a  hand-mirror,  pins,  in 
short,  whatever  a  person  away  from  home  may 
jsibly  be  in  want  of,  should  belong  to  the  fur- 

ing  of  the  guest-room, 
[t  is  not  wise  to   greatly  vary  the  ordinary- 
table  for  the  guest  who  is  staying  indefi- 
ly,  or  whose  visit  extends  over  a  week  or 
jests  who  are  specially  invited  for 
iould  have  special  attentions  in  the 

[208] 


'way  of  a  dainty  or  elaborate  menu,  and  more  thar 
ordinary  elegance  in  the  table  appointments.  The 
successful  hostess  does  not,  however,  put  her- 
self out  so  that  she  neglects  her  usual  engage- 
ments when  guests  are  staying  in  her  house.  It 
is  much  better  that  their  mornings,  at  least,  should 
be  left  to  their  own  discretion,  so  that  they  may 
write  their  letters,  read,  go  out  if  they  please, 
and  regulate  their  time  to  suit  their  own  wishes. 
Until  the  hour  of  luncheon,  the  hostess  should 
leave  her  guests  comparatively  free,  and  herself 
feel  free  to  be  occupied  with  her  accustomed 
duties.  Plans  for  the  later  day,  invitations  to 
friends  who  are  to  meet  the  guest,  excursions, 
rides,  drives,  theatre  parties,  or  whatever  else 
may  be  on  foot,  are  purposely  arranged  before- 
hand, so  that  there  may  be  no  lack  of  enjoyable 
occasions  while  the  guest  remains  under  the  cat 
of  the  hostess.  It  is  well,  in  sending  an  invif 
tion,  to  indicate  the  expected  or  desired  len^ 
of  a  visit,  and  also  to  state  by  what  train  or  h( 
the  guest  would  better  travel.  If  she  is  to  be  m( 
at  the  station,  information  on  that  point 
not  be  omitted.  Tlie  rule  applied^ 
guest  is  not  at  all  alterf 


^ 


party.     People  who  live  in  large  country  houses  j-^ 
often  give  themselves  the  great  pleasure  of  en- 
tertaining a  company  of  friends  at  one  time,  and 
they  simply  do  for  a  number  what  they  would  do 
were  they  merely  entertaining  a  single  friend. 

When  one  is  admitted  as  a  guest  to  a  house 
of  feasting,  one  should  be  careful  to  bring  to 
it  the  best  that  is  in  his  or  her  power.  An  unre- 
sponsive guest,  who  receives  everything  as  a  mat- 
of  course,  and  carelessly  disregards  the  usages 
the  family,  is  late  at  prayers  or  at  meals,  who 
rgets  the  obligation  of  deference  due  to  the 
id  members  of  the  household,  if  such  there 
\,  may  be^^ieJr^ventionally  gently  bred,  but  lacks 
le  real/sl^'mp  of  good  training  and  refinement. 
Is,  through  thoughtlessness,  are  some- 
attrioying  to  punctilious  hostesses.  For 
instap^^a  college  girl  may  invite  two  or  three 
i  of  her  friends  to  spend  the  Christmas  or  Easter 
holidays  at  her  home.  These  girls  may  or  may 
not  commend  the^^j^^o  the  mother  of  their 
classmate.     They,  may  satoknow  it,  but  they  are 

ey^  in  the  home  where 

approval  or  disapproval 

o  the  home  training 


[210] 


they  have  had.  io  a  cdiciui  uusicas  n  is  nut  // 
quite  agreeable  to  have  her  pretty  guest-chamber 
look  as  if  it  had  been  struck  by  a  cyclone,  when 
a  careless  young  woman  flings  her  shoes  in  one 
direction,  her  wrap  in  another,  and  her  things 
in  general  all  over  the  place.  A  thrifty  house- 
keeper is  not  pleasantly  impressed  by  the  guest 
who  is  conspicuously  w^asteful  in  the  matter  of 
gas  or  electric  light,  leaving  the  lights  turned  on 
at  full  pressure  for  hours,  when  they  are  not 
needed  at  all.  The  man  of  the  house  seldom  likes 
to  have  young  people  late  at  meals.  A  little 
thought  about  little  things  makes  all  the  differ- 
ence in  the  world  between  an  agreeable  and  a 
disagreeable  guest. 

Visitors  should  at  certain  times  efface  them- 
selves, as  every  family  likes  at  certain  seasons 
to  be  alone.  A  visitor  should  have  individuaj^^^*^^'- 
resources,  and  not  be  a  dead-weight  on  tl 
hands  of  the  hostess.  Guests  should  be  care! 
not  to  make  unnecessary  work  for  servants,  wl 
they  should  also  not  officiously  take  the  work' 
the  servants  upon  their  own  hands.  The  fact  15 
that,  in  all  human  relations,  common  sense  is  a 
commodity  which  greatly  eas< 

[211] 


The  Little  Kingdom  of  Home 


& 


.helps  along  the  ordinary  cares  of  the  day.  A 
saint  without  common  sense  may  be  an  extremely 
trying  companion;  a  sinner  with  it  may  possess 
that  which  enables  one  to  condone  many  offences. 
To  our  house  of  feasting,  from  time  to  time, 
come  angels  unexpected.  If  there  happen  to  be  a 
convention  in  our  town,  or  a  conference,  or  a 
meeting  of  the  Synod,  something  that  calls  to- 
gether a  number  of  strangers,  who  must  be  en- 
tertained in  hospitable  homes,  friendships  are 
often  formed  with  those  who  come  to  us  for  a 
day  or  two,  or  perhaps  for  a  week,  and  these 
friendships  add  greatly  to  the  outlook  and 
breadth  of  our  lives.  In  the  finest  hospitality 
there  is  always  an  element  of  something  beyond 
the  grosser  forms,  of  something  that  has  to  do 
with  mind  and  heart  and  soul.  The  very  effort 
that  is  made  to  be  in  sympathy  with  one  who 

jes  from  any  environment  other  than  our  own 

itself  an  opportunity,  and  tends  to  make  us, 

narrow  and  provincial,  but  citizens  of  the 

rid. 


Oman  is,  of  course,  the  presiding  genius  of 
in  a  sense,  the  author  and  finisher 
!es.     The  habitual  manner  of  the 

[212] 


home,  the  habitual  bearing  toward  guests,  never 
rises  higher  than  the  character  and  breeding  of 
the  mother.  One  may  be  able  to  entertain  sump- 
tuously, or  may  have  but  a  crust  to  offer;  in 
either  case,  it  is,  as  has  been  said  before,  the 
spirit,  and  not  the  letter  that  is  important. 

"  You  are  getting  to  be  a  society  woman,"  said 
an  underbred  person  to  a  little  lady  who  had 
come  from  a  backwoods  town  to  live  in  Wash- 
ington. "  I  have  always  been  a  society  woman," 
was  the  quiet  reply,  and  it  was  true,  for,  in  the 
little  home  under  the  shoulder  of  the  hill,  she  had 
not  scrupled  to  give  the  finest  entertainment 
within  her  power  to  all  who  crossed  her  threshold. 

Emerson  says,  "  The  worth  of  the  thing  signi- 
fied must  vindicate  our  taste  for  the  emblem. 
Everything  that  is  called  fashion  and  courtesy 
humbles  itself  before  the  cause  and  fountain 
honor,  creator  of  titles  and  dignities,  namely,  t 
heart  of  love.  This  is  the  royal  blood,  this 
fire  which,  in  all  countries  and  contingencies,  v 
work  after  its  kind  and  conquer  and  expand 
that  approaches  it.  This  gives  new  meanin 
every  fact.  This  impov^ijghes  the  pch,,,suffeHng 
no  grandeur  but  its 


you  rich  enough  to  help  anybody?  to  succor  th( 
unfashionable  and  the  eccentric?  rich  enough  to 
make  the  Canadian  in  his  wagon,  the  itinerant 
with  his  consul's  paper,  which  commends  him  "  to 
the  charitable,"  the  swarthy  Italian  with  his  few 
broken  words  of  English,  the  lame  pauper  hunted 
by  overseers  from  town  to  town,  even  the  poor 
insane  or  besotted  wreck  of  man  or  woman,  feel 
Jhe  noble  exception  of  your  presence  and  your 
^use  from  the  general  bleakness  and  stoniness; 
make  such  feel  that  they  were  greeted  with  a 
)ice  which  made  them  both  remember  and  hope  ? 
rar  but  to  refuse  the  claim  on  acute 
reasons?  What  is  gentle  but  to 
md  give  their  heart  and  yours  one 
the  national  caution?  Without  the 
f,  wealth  is  an  ugly  beggar.  The  King 
juld  not  afford  to  be  so  bountiful  as 
who  dwelt  at  his  gate.     Osman 


nd  deep  that,  although 

free  with  the  Koran 

vishes,   yet  there  was 

eccentric,  or  insane  man, 

lis  beard,  or  who  had 

,  or  had  a  pet  madness 


in  his  brain,  but  fled  at  once  to  him;  that  great, 
heart  lay  there  so  sunny  and  hospitable  in  the 
centre  of  the  country  that  it  seemed  as  if  the 
instinct  of  all  sufferers  drew  them  to  his  side. 
And  the  madness  which  he  harbored  he  did  not 
share.  Is  not  this  to  be  rich?  this  only  to  be 
rightly  rich?  " 

The  bane  of  the  diffident  and  retiring  among  us, 
is  a  hampering  self-consciousness.  All  their  days, 
some  excellent  souls  shrink,  like  the  sensitive 
plant,  from  contact  with  their  fellows.  They 
dread  to  meet  strangers.  "  How  shall  I  behave, 
what  shall  I  do,"  if  placed  in  this  or  that  situation, 
is  asked  with  urgency  by  those  unused  to  society. 
Much  of  this  altogether  gratuitous  misery  could 
be  saved,  could  indeed  be  rendered  impossible, 
if  a  frank  and  simple  hospitality  were  practised 
in  the  home.  Ministers'  families,  accustomed 
the  ebbing  and  flowing  tides  of  gtiests  in  t 
parsonage,  from  the  grave  and  stately  person 
distinction,  to  the  man  of  low  estate,  learn  bey 
others  the  grace  of  the  cordial  welcome.  I 
told  of  a  noted  evangelist  that  in  the  season  of 
revival,  a  man  with  a  drawn  ajPid  haggard  coun 
tenance  rang  the  door-bell.     A  little  girl  of, 

[215] 


The  Little  Kingdom  of  Home 


fl 


opened  the  door.  When  the  stranger  asked  for 
her  father  she  repHed  that  he  was  not  at  home,  but 
added,  "  If  you  are  a  poor  sinner,  come  in,  and 
mother  will  talk  to  you."  No  self -consciousness 
burdened  this  dear  child,  who  knew  that  people 
sought  her  parents  for  comfort  in  their  soul- 
straits. 

Another  pretty  story  is  related  of  our  Revolu- 
tionary War.  When  in  its  darkest  period  of  stress 
and  gloom,  General  Washington  was  once  enter- 
tained in  the  home  of  a  friend ;  as  he  was  taking 
leave,  a  little  daughter  of  the  house  stood  at  the 
door,  to  close  it  after  him. 

"  I  could  wish  you  a  better  office,  my  dear," 
said  the  courtly  general. 

Yes,"  she  answered  with  a  low  courtesy,  "  To 
open  it  for  you  again." 

Grace   of   manner  and   charm   of   speech   are 

imable  aids  to  success  in  this  world  of  emula- 

id  competition.    Southern  men  and  women, 

ing,  deferential,  considerate,  with  that  touch 

autocrat  in  their  bearing  which  comes  from 

inherited    association    with    an 

irry  all  before  them.     Especially 

ig  in  address,  and  at  ease  in  all 

[216] 


:ompany.  They  have  Hved  in  the  constant  habit 
of  hospitahty,  the  latch-string  always  loose  for 
their  friends,  the  roof  always  broad  enough  to 
afford  shelter  to  kindred  and  acquaintance.  If 
they  win  their  way  more  easily  than  others,  it  is 
because  back  of  them  has  been  the  home  train- 
ing of  centuries  in  the  gentle  amenities  of  life. 
Sweet  are  the  rose  perfumes  that  float  ever- 
more from  the  house  of  feasting. 


[217] 


[219] 


From  the  limited  sphere  to  the  infinite  space; 
We  are  mistaken,  who  deem  they  are  dead ; 
They  Hve  and  they  love  in  the  light  of  God's  face. 


[220] 


The  House  of  Mourning 

"  There  is  no  flock,  however  watched  and  tended, 
But  one  dead  lamb  is  there  ; 
There  is  no  household  howsoe'er  defended, 
But  has  one  vacant  chair." 


SWIFTLY  glide  the  charmed  hours  in  the 
house  of  feasting.  Slowly  they  creep  in  the 
house  of  mourning.  Immune  we  may  be 
from  a  thousand  perils,  but  none  of  us  is  immune 
from  death,  and  on  the  day  that  marks  our  birth, 
in  some  book  of  the  recording  angel,  by  an  unerr- 
ing law  of  destiny  the  day  of  our  death  is  entered. 
Lx)ng  years  of  labor  that  we  love,  of  enthusiasm 
in  friendship,  of  amassing  stores  material  or 
spiritual ;  then  comes  an  interval  of  weakness, 
it  may  be  a  sudden  breaking  of  the  silver  cor7 
and  the  end  of  all,  for  this  life.  Thank  God, 
this  only ! 

"  Sunset  and  evening  star 
And  one  clear  call  for  me, 
And  may  there  be  nc^oanmg 
When  I  put  out  to 


some  people,  one  can  never  associate 
death.  They  are  so  vital,  so  magnetic, 
so  full  of  plans  and  enterprises,  they  mean  so 
much  to  those  around  them,  that  it  seems  as 
if  death  must  stand  aside,  nor  dare  to  in- 
terrupt them  in  mid-career.  The  young  wife,  the 
mother,  the  man  in  his  prime,  how  can  their 
world  spare  them;  what  could  we  do  without 
them?  Alas,  there  dawns  a  day  when  we  are 
face  with  the  terrible  blank,  that  their 
made ;  we  learn  that,  shorn  of  gladness, 
ling  hearts,  with  senses  dulled,  with  tear- 
eyes,  we  must  go  on.  We  have  still 
The  work  of  the  dear  ones 
us,  the  only  thing  is  to  gather 
:nts  that  remain,  to  occupy  ourselves 
the  well-being  of  the  living,  not 
grief  for  the  dead  wholly  to  sap 
make  us  unjust  to  those  who 

en  tjjie  man  <5$>^ii^Muse  is  taken,  and  with 

hlrn  ceases  the  fs^mUx  income,  much  real  suffer- 

is  entailed,  and^^Tts'^i^e  is  so  sharp  as  to 

iteness  of  the  wound  to 
of  sorrow  is  not  as- 


,«uaged,  but  it  cannot  be  indulged.  Said  a  woman 
who  came  to  a  great  house  week  by  week,  to  do 
the  family  washing  of  another,  who,  in  widow's 
weeds,  trailed  down  the  marble  staircase  and 
through  the  wide  halls,  going  day  by  day,  in 
storm  and  shine,  to  weep  beside  the  grave  of  the 

husband  she  had  adored :    "  If  Mrs.  had 

six  children  to  feed  and  the  rent  to  pay,  she'd 
be  better  off  than  she  is.  I'm  broken-hearted  for 
Johnny,  but  I've  Johnny's  children  to  care  for, 
and  I  can't  be  crying  into  my  wash-tubs."  One's 
pity  deepens  when  one  remembers  the  women 
who  have  been  love-shielded  from  every  rough 
wind,  watched  over  in  sickness  and  in  health, 
most  gently  and  unremittingly  cared  for,  who  are 
obliged,  often  with  little  preparation,  to  find 
something  to  do,  some  means  of  earning  their 
own  support.  They  prove  how  amazing  is 
elasticity  of  woman,  and  how  great  is  her  couraj 
when  they  rise  to  the  need  of  the  hour,  and 
brave  hands  to  whatever  work  comes  first. 

One  hardly  sees  how  it  is  to  be  brought  aboi 
unless    for   the   sake   of   those   who   cannot   ai 
ford   inordinate   display,   the   richifjnaY   consent. 

[223] 


to  greater  simplicity   in   the  matter   of   funeral, 
customs. 

Among  our  friends  in  the  Shaker  commun- 
ities, the  expense  of  burial  is  minimized  to  an 
extreme  bareness.  The  coffin,  of  plain  pine,  is 
covered  with  a  cheap  muslin.  Asceticism,  having 
been  the  law  of  life  for  these  good  people,  ex- 
tends its  iron  hand  over  them  as  they  lie  in 
the  last  sleep,  and  forbids  anything  beyond 
actually  necessary  outlay  upon  their  caskets  and 
their  graves.  Here  the  pendulum  swings  too 
far  in  the  direction  of  simplicity.  Yet  we  may 
receive  from  them  a  useful  hint. 

The  actual  and  immediate  pressure  that  falls 

upon    family    resources    when    a    death    occurs, 

is    exceedingly    trying    to    all    except    the    very 

wealthy.     Funerals  are  beset  with  expenses.     It 

is  not  too  much  to  say  that  the  inexperienced, 

^se    who    for    the    first  time    go  through  the 

iLtrending  ordeal  of  the  death  and  burial  of 

le  one  who  is  as  their  own  flesh  and  blood, 

aghast  at  the  costliness  of  every  detail.    The 

cet  of  oak,  or  rosewood,  or  mahogany,  with 

^of  silver,   and  its  lining  of  satin, 

irniture  which  has  a  fancy  price 


[224] 


swallows  up  a  sum  that  would  have  supported 
its  tenant  many  months  during  life.  The 
flowers,  the  carriages,  the  hymns  sung,  the  whole 
order  of  the  most  modest  funeral,  must  be  paid  for 
in  solid  cash.  The  grave  itself  is  a  bit  of  real 
estate  that  has  a  commercial  appraisement 
amazing  when  one  thinks  of  it  as  six  feet  of 
earth.  At  the  moment,  the  mourners  do  not 
stop  to  count  the  cost,  but  the  undertaker's  bills 
come  to  them,  if  they  are  people  of  moderate 
means,  as  an  unexpected  and  woeful  weight 
fastened  to  them  when  grief  is  already  dragging 
them  down. 

Cremation  is  less  expensive  than  burial,  but 
to  many  it  is  in  its  details  so  harrowing,  and 
the  thought  of  burning  the  precious  dead  is  so 
terrible,  that  they  cannot  entertain  the  idea 
this  sort  of  mortuary  disposition.  Among  t 
very  poor,  who  have  an  unconquerable  aversi 
to  thrift  in  matters  where  the  dead  are  o 
cerned,  and  a  pride  in  the  pomp  and  pageant 
of  the  scene,  the  funeral  often  almost  swall 
the  little  life  insurance  Jhat  has  been  lefti-^or 
a  rainy  day. 


'^^ 


conducting  the  last  rites 
paid  to  those  who  have  gone,  we  may  show 
our  hope  in  the  hereafter,  our  behef  in  immor- 
tahty,  and  our  confidence  in  the  promises  of 
God.  We  may  do  this,  as  we  may,  quite  unin- 
tentionally, do  precisely  the  reverse.  Why  should 
the  obsequies  of  the  Christian  be  altogether 
gloomy?  If  we  are  sure  that  death  is  but  tran- 
sition, but  a  stepping  from  one  room  in  God's 
liverse  to  another,  but  a  going  on  to  fuller, 
:her  development,  can  we  not  have  something 
)mforting,  something  triumphant  in  the  prayers, 
Scripture  lesson,  and  the  singing,  which  are 
5sociated  with  our  memory  of  the 
'^eulogy  of  the  dead  is  not  to  be  de- 
rose  whose  hearts  are  stricken  in  the 
do  not  need  to  hear  an  epitome  of 
le's  virtues,  and  indeed,  unless  the 
^man  be  a  man  of  great  tact  and 
he  will  either  say  too  much  or 
md,  at  meSacfeS  hour  of  deepest  grief, 
shoulduiBjt  be  asked  to  listen  to  the 
a  life^^'  Whatever  is  possible 
graphical  sketch  would 


always  better  be  published   in  a  newspaper,   or 
in  a  memorial  leaflet  that  may  be  sent  to  friends. 
No  one  is  expected   to   reply   immediately  to 
the  letters  of  condolence  that  come  from  far  and 
near  upon  tidings  of  the  death.    The  wound  is  too 
poignant,  the  heart  too  lacerated  for  this  effort, 
and  often  the  hand  is  too  tired.     If  a  long  and 
severe   illness   has   preceded   a   death,    the  care- 
takers  are   often   at   the   end   of   their   strength 
when   the  last  rites  are  over.     Excitement  and 
the   need   for  action   kept   them  up   and  helped 
them  not  to  break  down,  but  when  there  is  no 
longer  the  occasion  for  ministry,  they  sink  down 
exhausted  and  almost  lifeless.    Thev  do  not  wish 
to  seem  ungrateful  or  insensible,  but  they  cannot 
summon  resolution  to  answer  the  friends  whose 
letters  have  brought  them   a  real   solace  and  a  ^^ 
real  cheer.     Never  should   we  hesitate  to  se    ''•-'^- 
a  word  of  sympathy  to  one  in  bereavement, 
we  have  the  impulse  and  our  acquaintance  j 
fies  our  entering  with  the  friend  into  the  val 
of  the  shadow.     But  we  must  not  demand 
answer.     A   sufficient   acknowledgment   is   mad« 


if  a  visiting-card  be  sent  with  " 
pathy  "  inscribed  thereon.    A 

[227] 


The    Little  Kingdo?n  of  Ho7ne 

.not  likely  to  be  generally  adopted,  on  account  of 
its  expense,  is  to  send  an  engraved  card,  in 
black  letters  on  white  ground  with  black  edge, 
stating  that  the  family  of  the  one  gone,  de- 
sire to  express  gratitude  to  those  who  have  sent 
assurances  of  sympathy.  In  this  formal  ex- 
pression of  acknowledgment  a  blank  may  or 
may  not  be  left  for  the  individual  name,  and 
the  third  person  is  to  be  used. 

One  should  not  be  hampered  by  conventions 
in  the  hour  of  affliction.  Then,  if  ever,  there 
should  be  patience,  and  the  bruised  nature  given 
a  chance  to  recover  its  tone,  and  once  more  take 
up  the  duties  that  death  interrupts  for  the  living, 
but  does  not  wholly  remove. 

Looking  back  a  few  years,  we  are  appalled  at 

the  invasions  death  has  made  in  the  ranks  of  our 

friends.     The  whole  landscape  changes,  so  often 

familiar  figures   removed,  and  new  adjust- 

t:s   are    forever   taking   place,   because   those 

*care  most  for  and  lean  most  upon  are  taken 

us. 

irable  loss  seems  to  be  that  of  little 

-edged  is  the  sword  that  cuts  the 

child's  opening  life.     So  much 

[228] 


'promise,  so  much  anticipation,  so  much  gladness 
and  elation  are  in  the  heart  which  holds  the 
treasure  of  children,  that  the  little  casket  throws 
a  shadow  long  enough  to  blot  the  whole  earth. 
Those  who  fancy  that  it  is  a  small  thing  to 
fold  baby  hands  and  shut  baby  beauty  away 
under  a  daisied  coverlet,  do  not  know  of  what 
they  speak.  The  plummet  has  never  been  found 
that  can  measure  the  fathomless  depths  of  a 
mother's  love  for  a  tiny  infant  that  she  carried 
under  her  heart  ere  it  saw  the  light,  and  in  her 
arms  for  a  blissful  space,  only  to  have  it  snatched 
out  of  her  sight.  The  child's  constant  depend- 
ence on  the  mother  leaves  the  latter  with 
empty  hands  as  well  as  aching  breast  when  there 
is  nothing  more  to  do;  only  tears  to  shed  over 
the  little  worn  shoes,  and  the  frocks  laid  away 
in  a  drawer  by  themselves. 

Does  God  send  trouble  ?    The  question  has  b 
asked  ten  thousand  times  in  the  last  hour, 
those  who  have  seen  the  desire  of  their  he 
removed.      Too    often    those    who    attempt    th 
hard  task  of  consolation  say  piously :    "  It  is  iiie 
will  of  God,  you  must  n^t  complain.     It  isx^^m 
His  hand  the  blow  hstSJ^Q^i^^kEKf^JYOf^WSBBit 


God  doth  not  afflict  willingly,  nor  grieve  tht 
children  of  men.  He  knoweth  our  frame.  He 
remembereth  that  we  are  dust."  God  allows 
trouble;  He  does  not  always  send  it.  When 
children  die  of  some  disease  engendered  by 
neglect  of  sanitary  precautions,  or  when  diph- 
theria, typhoid  fever,  or  smallpox  lays  waste  a 
township,  and  the  new  graves  in  the  cemetery 
are  like  the  ridges  in  a  ploughed  field,  we  must 
)t  blame  the  Almighty.  Nor  does  devotion  re- 
fiiire  that  in  our  hour  of  anguish,  when  the 
Is  lie  thick  on  the  house  of  mourning,  we 
id  feel  that  a  divine  interposition 
fs  asunder,  and  darkened  our  sun  at 

arles   Cuthbert   Hall,   D.  D.,   writing 
bject,  says  :   "  God  hates  death.    Death 
;  much  as  ours.     Death  is  a  cat- 
blot  on  creation.      God's  procla- 
ainst  death  is  explicit  and  oft  repeated. 
cTent  prophecy  of  Hosea : 
m   the   power   of   the 
em   from   death.     Oh, 
ues.     Oh,  Grave!    I 
ruction.'    'Death  is  not  the  out- 


come  of  God's  will.     Death  is  the  outcome  oi/t 
natural   law,   the  effect  of  natural   causes,    in   a 
created  order  perverted  and  spoiled  by  sin.     '  By- 
man,  sin  entered  into  the  world,  and  death  by 
sin.'     Scarlet  fever  smites  the  temple  of  the  dear 
child's  body  and  leaves  it  a  ruin.     We  torture 
our  hearts  to  make  them  say  this  fearful  para- 
dox :    'God's   will   has   done   this ;     therefore,    I 
turn  to  God  to  comfort  me.'     How  many  hearts 
have  bled,  blasphemed,   and  broken,   in  the  ex- 
cruciating effort  to  ask  comfort  from  Him  who 
killed  the  child?     We  try  to  train  ourselves  to 
believe  that  this  is  '  kissing  the  rod.'     We  are 
wrong.     'What  took  this  child  away?'     Shall 
we  say  the  will  of  God?     No,   let  us  say  the 
truth :    bad  drainage  and  germ-infection.     And 
God  sorrows  with  us  as  much  as  any  earthlyj^ 
friends,   for  He  no  more  did  it  than  did  th  '  ^^^ 
What  does  it  mean  then :    *  The  Lord  gave 
the  Lord  hath  taken  away,  blessed  be  the  na 
of   the    Lord  ? '      The   Hebrew    is   clear :    ' 
Lord  gave  and  the  Lord  hath  received,  ble 
be  His  name.'     Who  could  bless  the  Lord  i 
taking  away  our  beloved?    But w^'Can* bless  H 
that,  since  the  sad  and  broken  natural  orde: 


•disease  and  death  has  conquered  our  loved  one, 
the  Lord  has  received  to  His  eternal  paradise  the 
spirit  we  loved.  Once  only  in  the  Bible,  so  far 
as  I  know,  is  it  said  of  a  human  being :  *  God 
took  him  away,'  and  that  man  was  Enoch  — 
who  did  not  die.  God,  for  some  reason,  made 
him  an  exception  to  the  natural  order." 

There  is  deep  consolation  in  believing  that 
"  There  is  no  death,  what  seems  so  is  transition." 
Beyond  the  confines  of  this  earthly  life,  there 
is  a  life  that  will  go  on  forever.  In  that  life, 
in  the  home  "  where  there  is  neither  sickness, 
nor  parting,  nor  sorrow,  nor  crying,"  we  shall 
find  again  and  keep  to  all  eternity  the  dear  ones 
we  lose  here. 

Those  who  study  the  Book  of  God,  must  see 
how   full   of  comfort   it   is,    in   the   glimpses   so 
given    of    a    world    of    activity,    delight, 
love,  when  we  have  left  this  world  behind 
The  rustle  of  angelic  wings,  the  music  of 
l^elic   songs,    fill    the    Bible    from    Genesis    to 
jvelation.      In    the    place    where    emancipated 
|there  will  be  such  life,  such  glad- 
pledge,  such  progress  as  here  we 
Iream  of,   much  less  comprehend. 

[232] 


"  Eye  hath  not  seen,  ear  hath  not  heard,  the, 
thing    God    hath    laid    up    for    them    that    love 
Him." 

"  In  my  father's  house,"  says  our  blessed  Lord, 
"  are  many  mansions.  If  it  were  not  so,  I  would 
have  told  you.  I  go  to  prepare  a  place  for  you.  I 
will  come  again  and  receive  you  unto  myself." 

All  the  analogies  of  Nature  are  full  of  con- 
solation to  those  who  tarry  awhile  in  the  house 
of  mourning.  The  daisies  come  every  June. 
The  roses  never  fail  us.  The  leaves  drop  in  the 
autumnal  gale,  but  new  leaves  will  bourgeon  with 
the  spring.  In  the  coldest  sleet  and  wildest  snow, 
we  are  sure  that  a  morning  will  break  when  the 
robins  shall  sing  and  the  flowers  appear  on  the 
earth,  and  Nature  call  to  us  in  her  silver  tones, 
*'  The  winter  is  past.  The  rain  is  over  and  gone. 
Rise  up,  my  beloved,  my  fair  one,  and  cor 
away." 


[235] 


[STRESS    of   all    she    surveys,    her    right 
there  is  none  to  dispute.     They  who  envy 
the  lady  with  a  train  of  servants,  know  little  of 
her  cares.    The  true  autocrat  does  her  own  work. 


[236] 


CHAPTER  XV. 


Queen  of  One's  Own  Kitchen 


NOTWITHSTANDING  the  incessant 
discussion  of  the  servant  problem,  a 
problem  rapidly  taking  rank  with  others 
that  rear  their  threatening  heads  against  the 
peace  of  the  nation,  menacing  its  security  from 
within,  there  are  fortunate  beings  whom  it  never 
troubles.  In  complete  immunity  from  the  fric- 
tion, the  fuss  and  the  agitation  that  accompany 
vexed  and  disturbed  relations  with  domestics,  the 
gentlewoman,  who  is  in  her  own  kitchen  queen 
and  mistress,  pursues  the  even  tenor  of  her  way. 
There  is  not  a  corner  of  the  land  in  which  she 
may  not  be  found,  this  competent,  quiet,  an 
accomplished  person  who  habitually  does  h 
work  with  her  own  hands,  asking  little  outsij, 
assistance,  her  family,  as  a  matter  of  coui 
rendering  help  according  to  their  ability, 
reigns  in  her  blissful  independence  in  the 
pact  city  flat,  where  a 
superfluous,  but  would; 


The  Little  Kingdom  of  Home 


,to  the  living  rooms  where  the  household  desire 
privacy.  She  is  undisputed  sovereign  in  thou- 
sands of  charming  village  homes,  and  as  on  the 
farm  north  or  south,  she  is  exceptional  who  can 
secure  and  retain  good  hired  help,  the  farmer's 
wife  is,  as  a  rule,  the  efficient  manager  and 
worker  who  finds  her  kitchen  a  pleasant  realm. 
A  kitchen  where  there  is  no  servant  is  apt  to  be 
a  much  more  home-like  place  than  that  presided 
(er  by  Norah,  or  Selma,  or  Phyllis,  or  Gretchen. 
51ack  or  white,  German,  Swedish,  Irish,  or 
Jsiatic,  the  servant,  however  skilful,  diligent, 
devoted,  does  not  impart  to  the  scene  of  his 
ist  the  air  of  radiant  domesticity 
the  touch  of  the  mistress, 
home  kitchen,  that  for  convenience 
[:he  family  dining-room  as  well,  is 
■ful,  and  clean.  It  has  plants  in  the 
they  bloom  as  if  they  love  to  re- 
tend  them.  A  cat  basks  beside 
lakes  himself  at  home 
ler  of  the  hearth.  No  home 
thal^ias  not  these  friendly 
animals,  as  part  of  its 
They  do  not  speak 


'Otir  language,  but  their  eyes,  their  voices,  their 
responsive  affection,  speak  plainly  as  articulate 
v^'ords  to  those  whom  they  love.  Suspect  and 
beware  of  those  whom  they  do  not  love.  A 
cat's  aversions  are  more  subtle  and  capricious 
than  the  honest  dislikes  of  a  dog,  but  the  mys- 
terious little  being  with  the  emerald  eyes  and  the 
electric  fur  does  not  put  herself  out  to  hate 
anybody  who  has  not  a  soul  malevolent  toward 
her  and  hers.  The  man  w^hom  a  dog  distrusts, 
is  not  a  safe  man  to  meet  on  a  dark  road  in 
a  lonesome  w^ood.  Animals  have  keen  percep- 
tions, and  I  am  not  sure  that  they  have  not  a 
strangely  familiar  acquaintance  at  times  with 
beings  who  hover  near  us,  undetected  by  our 
dull  vision.  One  need  not  believe  in  ghosts  and 
goblins,  to  feel  that  sometimes  the  supernatural 
approaches  the  natural  so  closely  that  the  separat^^ 
ing  gulf  is  hardly  more  than  a  narrow  three 
of  silent  stream.  Whether  or  not  dogs  and  c? 
speak,  there  are  fathomless  depths  that  they  km 
at  times.  And  they  are  aristocrats  in  their  o^ 
degree,  and  shun  the  kitchens  where  maids  beaj 
sway,  while  they  are  at  home  in^ 
the  family. 

[239] 


The  Little  Kingdom  of  Home 


ci 


^ ~ 1 

Father  and  the  boys  bring  in  the  wood,  bring- 
up  the  coal,  go  on  errands  to  the  cellar,  and  va- 
riously lend  a  hand,  indoors  and  out,  when  the 
mother  does  the  work.  If  they  refuse  or  shirk 
their  proper  share,  they  are  not  of  the  stuff  of 
which  good  Americans  are  made.  I  have  known 
a  husband  to  do  the  family  washing,  wringing, 
and  hanging  out  on  the  clothes-line  included, 
rather  than  permit  his  delicate  wife  to  undertake 
so  hard  a  task.  This  was  in  a  part  of  the  country 
where  hired  help  was  not  to  be  had  for  love  or 
money.  I  have  eaten  bread  mixed  and  kneaded 
during  winter  by  the  hands  of  the  man  of 
the  house,  his  wife  not  being  strong  and  being 
encumbered  with  the  care  of  her  little  children. 
A  manly  young  fellow  in  New  England,  leading 
his  class  alike  in  study  and  sport,  does  not  ob- 
ject in  vacations  to  giving  his  mother  and  sisters 
ft  with  the  ironing.  There  is  no  reason  why 
and  boys,  who,  as  soldiers  and  sailors, 
neers,  and  frontiersmen,  do  excellent  work 
lines  of  cooking  and  keeping  everything  neat 
shipshape^  should  not,  at  need,  help  their  dear 
e.    They  object  to  helping  a  paid 

[240] 


Momestic,  but  they  find  it  delightful  to  help  wife 
mother,  or  sister. 

A  man  said  the  other  day,  speaking  of  his 
childhood,  that  among  his  most  treasured  remi- 
niscences were  the  recollections  he  had  of  child- 
hood, when  on  winter  mornings  he  took  turns 
with  his  brothers  in  baking  griddle-cakes  for 
breakfast.  "  Somehow,"  he  added,  "  homes 
were  more  intimate  places  then  than  now.  Fam- 
ilies were  knitted  together  more  closely." 

The  woman  who  does  her  own  work  brings 
to  bear  upon  it  intelligence,  order,  and  pains- 
taking. She  does  not  work  all  day  long.  Her 
mornings  may  be  busy,  but  if  she  have  daugh- 
ters to  help  her,  they  make  a  frolic  of  the  hardest 
tasks.  Little  snatches  of  song,  ripples  of  laugh- 
ter, a  flowing  stream  of  conversation,  diversify 
the  work.  They  forget  that  to  some  it  wou 
be  drudgery.  Nothing  is  drudgery  that  o 
likes,  and  thoroughly  understands. 

The  elemental  necessity  of  good  housekeepi 
is  a  fire.     The  Indian  woman  in  her  tepee  cari 
not  cook  without  her  fire  on   the   hearth,   am 
her   highly   civilized   white   sister,    in   the   Gfibst 
approved   modern  kitchwE^iiiCSBi^^^  scientific 


i/T-y, 


The  Little  Kingdom  of  Home 


appliance,  must  have  her  fire,  in  stove  or  range. 
If  she  have  gas  or  electricity  to  heat  her  ovens 
and  boil  her  kettles  and  simmer  her  saucepans, 
her  task  is  the  easier.  The  majority  of  house- 
wives burn  wood  or  burn  coal  in  a  range.  If 
the  latter,  the  fire  may  be  kept  burning  in- 
definitely by  a  judicious  use  of  dampers,  and 
care  in  feeding  the  flame.  Constant  domestic 
work  is  hard  upon  the  hands,  but  the  woman 
(ho  chooses  to  do  so  may  protect  hers  by  the 
of  mops,  and  by  rubber  gloves,  so  that  her 
mds  are  not  reddened  and  roughened  by  hot 
Is,  nor  blistered  by  the  broom  and  scrubbing- 
ish.  Inordthate  vanity  about  white  and  soft 
found  in  women  who  do  their 
;rson ;  they  have  not  time  for  such 
|considerations,  and  if  they  think  of 
they  reflect  that  the  really  beautiful 
'fend  that  toils  for  others'  well-being. 
t>reakfast  is  over  and  the  children  are 
IS  her  day  before  her, 
break  her  fine  china, 
o^  the  floor,  or  scorch 
ler  towels  for  stove-lift- 
reckless  touch,  may 


sit  down  in  her  rocking-chair  and   rest, 
may  read  her  Bible  or  the  morning-  paper.     She 
may  write  a  letter  to  her  mother  in  Kansas,  or 
her  brother  in  the  Philippines.     True,  there  are 
beds  to  be  made,  and  a  meal  to  be  prepared  for 
the  midday  coming  of  some  of  the  family,  but 
there  will  be  plenty  of  time.     When  one  does 
her  own  work,  there  is  never  any  lack  of  time. 
Hurry  and  flurry  and  fuming  and  fidgeting  are 
unknown  quantities.     If  there  is  a  baby,  now  is 
the  time  for  his  morning  bath.     If  there  is  an 
invalid,  now  she  is  made  comfortable  for  another 
day.     If  the  lady's  husband  be  a  doctor  or  a 
minister,   or  a  storekeeper  with  his   work  near 
home,  a  man,  in  short,  who  is  by  way  of  stopping 
in  at  home  for  a  chat  at  odd  moments  of  the 
day,  he  finds  his  wife  at  leisure  to  hear  about     . 
the  patient  who  needs  broth   and  beef  tea,   or^-^s^J;' 
the   people   who  are   bringing   some  new   ben( 
fits  to  the  parish,  or  the  investment  that  he 
considering.     The  wife  who  has  leisure  to  list 
to  her  husband  when  he  feels  that  he  has  leisi 
to  talk,  and  who  is  interested  in  his  topics,  Ts 
the  wife  who  remains  young  and,„ beautiful  in 
his  eyes  to  the  latest  day  of  h4 

[243] 


The  Little  Kingdom  of  Home 


■V/ 

V 


Arcady  is  not  invariably  reached  by  the  woman 
who  does  her  own  work.  She  is  often  far  too 
weary;  often  she  is  worn  out  by  the  bondage 
of  routine.  To  rise  every  morning  at  dawn, 
or  soon  after,  to  prepare  breakfast,  dinner,  and 
supper  for  hungry  people,  day  in  and  day  out, 
year  after  year,  to  sweep,  dust,  clean  house, 
make  beds,  sew,  mend,  darn  stockings,  and  attend 
to  the  numerous  little  and  large  duties  that  be- 
long to  the  simplest  household,  in  time  becomes 
burdensome.  It  is  said  that  in  hospitals  for 
the  insane  there  are  many  women  who  have 
lost  their  mental  balance  through  the  monotony 
of  lonely  lives,  depressed  by  never-ending,  still 
beginning  toil,  unbroken  by  recreation,  or  whole- 
some diversion.  The  woman  who  does  her  own 
work  should  so  manage  it,  that  it  shall  never 
leave  her  exhausted  in  body  and  brain.     When 

often  happens,  nature  is  showing  a  danger- 

il,  and  the  warning  must  not  go  unheeded. 

have  known  a  farmer's  wife  in  a  sparsely 
tied   community,   whose  sole  opportunity   for 

ting   and    talking    with    other    women    in    a 

)orly    fashion    came    once    a    year 

lltural  fair  was  held  in  the  shire 

[244] 


town  some  miles  away.  There  were  no  religions" 
services  near  enough  for  her  regular  attendance, 
and  there  were  no  homes  adjacent  to  hers.  An- 
other woman,  splendidly  loyal  and  faithful,  did 
her  work  without  repining,  nursing  her  babies, 
cheerfully  toiling  beyond  her  strength,  and  never 
giving  a  thought  to  the  luxuries  of  her  girlhood's 
home,  until,  after  some  weeks  of  suffering,  her 
little  daughter  died.  When  she  sat  at  the  win- 
dow, with  another  little  one  in  her  arms,  fever- 
flushed  and  drawing  painful  breaths,  and  saw 
her  husband  carrying  on  his  shoulder  the  coffin 
he  had  made,  and  going  alone  over  snowy  fields 
to  bury  their  darling,  her  courage  and  health  alike 
gave  out.  The  tragedies  of  women's  hearts  in  the 
desolation  of  the  pioneer-life  are  pathetic  in  the 
intensity  of  despair. 

When   the   home   tasks   grow   so   heavy  th< 
nervous  prostration  or  the  relief  of  death 
up   in   the   fast   approaching   future,   a   sensijj 
woman  will,  at  any  cost,  make  a  break  for  fi 
dom.     No  doubt  it  will  be  inconvenient  for 
to  leave  John  and  the  children,  while  she  Oflfys 
a  visit  to  her  mother,  Oj^iSn  old  sqhoolmat^^^t 
should  that  angel  whc 


step  over  her  door-sill,  and  slip  his  hand  intO' 
hers,  she  would  go,  not  for  a  week  or  a  month, 
but  forever  from  the  home  where  she  seems  in- 
dispensable. The  value  of  a  little  break,  a  little 
holiday,  a  little  play-spell,  is  not  to  be  computed 
in  a  column  of  figures :  it  belongs  to  the  intan- 
gible assets  that  are  of  greater  worth  than 
diamonds  or  gold. 

Queen  of  her  kitchen  realm,  if  the  tired  woman 
do  nothing  else,   she  can,  on  occasion,   let 
tr  work  go.     In  the  twentieth  century  home 
lere  should  be  labor-saving  appliances,  so  that, 
need  be,  a  child  could,  to  some  extent,  relieve 
motheji.<^  the  turn  of  a  faucet  or  the  touch 
The  pantry  may  be  supplied  with 
foods,  so  that  a  cereal  may  be  shaken 
paper  box,   and  a  meal  m'ay  emerge 
j:an,  and  the  mother,  too  worn  to 
and  mix  and  mingle,  may  serve 
with    delicious    viands    that 
jthe  price  of  a  doctor's  visits. 
^omanr?3^iOuld  know  how  to  fold  her 
w^en  she  is  nearing  the 
rces.     Then  it  is  that 
iarpened,''and  the  tension  is  so 


great  that  the  weakest  place  may  snap.  A  sud- 
den stroke  is  not  always  sudden.  Long  ago 
it  might  have  been  prevented,  had  plain  warn- 
ings been  noted. 

A  daily  rest  early  In  the  afternoon,  or  just 
before  supper,  is  imperative,  if  women  would 
keep  well  and  strong.  Unless  this  is  a  matter 
of  principle,  most  women  neglect  it,  and  pay 
the  penalty.  We  do  not  understand  how  much 
is  gained  by  loosening  all  tight  clothing,  and 
lying  down  for  a  half-hour,  or  by  sitting  still  in 
an  easy  chair,  the  feet  on  a  hassock,  and  the 
mind  enlivened  by  an  entertaining  book. 

Simplicity  is  the  open  secret  of  wholesome 
living  for  the  housekeeper,  and  most  of  all,  it 
is  her  salvation  if  she  can  carry  on  her  home 
duties  unaided.  The  heavier  work  in  some  places 
can  be  taken  by  women  who  go  out  by  the  daj 
where  no  help  can  be  obtained,  there  shouj 
be  care  taken  that  the  clothing  of  the  famj 
has  little  elaboration,  and  the  laundry  work  shot, 
be  abbreviated.  Instead  of  fine  linen  tat 
cloths  that  must  be  laundered  with  care,  use 
white  oilcloth  that  may  be  wiped  off  after 
meal,  and  serve  every  purpose  of  cleanllni^ss^ 

[247] 


refinement.  Simplify  everywhere.  Make  no 
pies  or  rich  cake.  Pastry  has  given  dyspepsia 
and  melancholy  born  of  it,  to  generations  of  men 
and  women  who  would  have  thriven  and  been 
cheerful  on  ripe  fruit  and  stale  bread.  Simplify 
in  the  number  of  rooms  heated  and  used.  Sim- 
plify in  all  non-essentials  Most  of  our  wants 
are  artificial;  when  we  get  down  to  the  must- 
haves  they  are  few. 

Dr.  John  Brown  has  told  us  a  story  of  a 
painter,  to  whose  studio  came  a  young  artist 
inquiring  and  investigating.  "  With  what  do 
you  mix  your  colors?  "  quoth  the  latter.  "  With 
brains,  sir,"  was  the  quick  reply. 

Tlie  successful  housekeeper,  queen  of  her 
kitchen,  must  manage  her  work,  not  with  hands 
only,  but  with  brains. 


[248] 


[249] 


^I^TpHEY  to  whom  we  owe  most  for  commoni/-^it 

place  comfort  are  those  who  work  out  of 

"sight,  in  lowly  places.     They  rise  early,  sit  up 

late,  and  have  burdens  to  bear  little  dreamed  of 

by  those  who  employ  them.     Every  home  should 

consider  its  faithful  servants  as  friends. 


[250] 


CHAPTER   XVI 


Domestic  Toil  and  Toilers 


SIDE  by  side  with  other  difficult  problems 
that  concern  the  security  and  peace  of  the 
nation,  not  less  insistent  and  baffling,  though 
of  more  restricted  scope  than  the  others,  is  the 
problem  of  domestic  service.  It  may  not  rise  to 
the  gravity  of  the  race  problem,  which  is  assuming 
proportions  so  formidable,  nor  may  it  be  men- 
tioned in  the  same  hour  with  the  vital  issues  of 
the  problem  of  labor  and  capital,  yet  it  comes  home 
with  equal  importance  to  every  hearth.  Endlessly 
is  it  agitated  wherever  women  meet.  It  forms  the 
staple  argument  in  women's  clubs,  and  disturbs 
the  smooth  ripple  of  conversation  at  dinners  a 
social    functions. 

Largely  this  question  belongs  to  the  twenti 
century  and  to  the  years  which  have  follov 
the  Civil  War  and  the  period  of  reconstructi 

Although  thousands  of  American  women  ar 
happily  independent  of  servants  anutnelfvri^ai 
because  they  do  their  own  work,  there  are  L^ts 


The  Little  Kingdom  of  Home 


f^ 


13 


.of  other  women  who  can  afford  to  pay  good 
wages,  and  accordingly  much  prefer  to  have  the 
routine  work  of  the  home  done  for  them  by 
hired  helpers.  As  the  nation  grows  in  wealth, 
and  luxuries  are  multiplied,  the  standard  of 
domestic  service  has  been  gradually  raised. 
Families  whose  mothers  and  grandmothers  did 
their  own  work,  and  found  it  no  burden,  in  these 
days  employ  one,  two  or  three  maids.  As  yet 
it  is  unusual  for  us,  except  when  we  are  very 
rich,  to  have  so  large  an  establishment  as  people 
of  rather  moderate  incomes  find  agreeable  in 
England  and  on  the  continent.  There,  however, 
wages  are  much  lower  than  with  us,  and  duties 
for  each  servant  are  more  clearly  defined.  The 
scale  of  wages  here  has  been  steadily  rising  in  the 
last  few  decades,  and  whereas  just  before  the 
Civil  War  wages  for  housemaids  were  from  five 
ight  dollars  per  month ;  for  cooks,  from  eight 
^elve  dollars,  and  for  other  servants  in  like 
[o,  at  present  the  untried,  untaught  novice, 
''iving  from  a  peasant  home  in  the  old  world, 
and  receives  a  generous  wage,  while  there 
somtely^io  limit  to  the  demands  made  by 
inS^' capable.    A  good  cook  commands 

[252] 


almost  any  price.  In  certain  parts  of  any  large 
city,  all  the  servants  are  more  highly  paid  than 
they  are  in  certain  other  parts  of  the  same  place. 
As  there  is  no  altruistic  standard  which  thus 
far  has  prevailed  among  employers,  a  house- 
keeper who  for  any  reason  chooses  to  give 
her  maids  two  or  three  dollars  more  weekly  or 
monthly  than  her  neighbors  are  giving  causes 
a  feeling  of  dissatisfaction  through  the  neigh- 
borhood, and  immediately  a  storm  brews  which 
is  not  in  proportion  to  fitness  or  amount  of  labor 
and  upsets  the  peace  of  the  entire  street.  Wages 
are  unequal.  They  are  arbitrary,  are  frequently 
determined  by  accident  or  caprice,  while  the  same 
care  is  not  exercised  in  reengaging  servants  as  in 
the  employment  of  other  wage-earners.  In  sheer 
desperation  many  employers  take  whoever  comes 
first,  relying  upon  that  wisp  of  straw,  a  recom 
mendation  from  an  intelligence  office.  They  fi 
themselves  too  often  at  the  mercy  of  ignorant 
and  unscrupulous  women,  who  may  either  dri; 
or  steal,  or,  if  honest  and  sober,  may  still  not  ha 
the  slightest  practical  preparation  for  the  wo, 
they  undertake.  These  persons,  too,  fly  of$i^at 
a  tangent,  are  independj^lfcr'nt^iatbfi/^^^irtt^ 


reason,  bitterly  resent  criticism  or  suggestions," 
and  flaunt  in  the  face  of  their  nominal  mistress 
the  fact  that  if  she  dismiss  them,  twenty-five 
other  places  are  ready  to  receive  them  with 
acclaim.  This  is  one  aspect  of  the  perplexing 
situation. 

Another  phase  is  caused  by  the  marvellous  in- 
crease of  factories,  and  the  fact  that  they  offer 
opportunites  to  young  women  to  work  in  various 
pacities,  at  liberal  rates  of  payment,  with  reg- 
hours,  and  entirely  free  evenings  as  well  as 
ndays  wholly  at  their  own  disposal.  These 
ustrial  openings  enlist  hundreds  of  girls  who 
wer^'engaged  in  domestic  work. 

iry  operative,  in  reality,  works  much 

longer  hours  and  receives  a  lower 

'On  than  the  woman  who  works  in  the 

The  latter  has,   as  part  of  her  re- 

tioi1^>;^mfortable    lodging    and    as   good 

as  the  fttpenly  who  employ  her  have  for  them- 

veS.     With  itenrt^>§i_^^rd  and  lodging  added, 

e„  hoXJ^hold  set^ja^^^^^^  financially  better  off 

w Jra^ wh/^v^fki^f actories  or  in  shops, 

r  weekly  stipend.   The 
he  greater  independ- 


ence  of  the  operative  or  the  saleswoman,  and  the 
common  impression  that  there  is  something  lower- 
ing to  a  person's  dignity  in  accepting  the  work 
of  a  domestic.  The  very  term  "  servant  "  is  to 
many  an  offence.  American  girls  feel  that  they 
cannot  afford  to  lose  caste  by  working  in  any 
one's  kitchen.  They  refuse  to  take  meals  apart 
from  the  family.  They  prefer  any  other  work 
to  this.  The  home  employer  must  therefore 
depend  on  the  foreign  contingent,  on  the  women 
who  come  from  Ireland,  Sweden,  Norway,  Den- 
mark, Finland,  France,  Germany,  or  Italy  for 
recruits  in  the  kitchen  department.  Latterly 
these  women  have  found  numerous  rivals  in  the 
colored  people  who  come  as  an  advancing  host 
from  our  Southern  States.  Negro  women  have 
a  natural  gift  for  cooking,  and  are  soft-voiced 
and  pleasant,  though  untrained  and  frequentl 
conspicuously  irresponsible  and  inefficient 
inordinate  love  of  gayety  and  sociability  belon 
to  their  race.  In  this  generation  they  have  riot 
been  inured  to  steady  work,  and  considering  hmv 
recently  the  race  has  emerged  from  slavery,  it  i^^, 
wonderful  that  they  voluntarily  take  so  well  as 
they  do  to  steady  labor.     By^those  M^iQ.  kn 


[255] 


.^#s?. 


The  Little  Kingdom  of  Home 


we  are  told  that  one-tenth  of  the  population^ 
of  black  folk  who  were  made  their  own  masters 
by  emancipation  are  now  working  with  praise- 
worthy industry,  are  educated,  are  amassing 
money  and  are  equal  in  most  particulars  to 
people  with  white  skins.  The  other  nine-tenths 
are  in  process  of  emerging.  Some  of  them  will 
make  admirable  servants.  Others,  with  their 
slipshod  ways,  tax  the  patience  of  the  notable 
housekeeper,  and  yet,  especially  in  suburban 
places,  they  are  her  hope,  as,  the  moment  winter 
comes,  the  young  white  women  from  town  seek 
it  again.  They  wish  to  be  close  by  their  relatives 
and  their  church, 

A  glimmer  of  hope  comes  to  the  horizon  from 

Asia.     Many  persons  are  employing  the  silent, 

mysterious,    deft-handed,    swift-footed    Oriental, 

who  does  his  work  so  neatly  and  so  thoroughly, 

learns  so  rapidly,  and  who  easily  fits  into 

'place   hitherto  filled  by  clumsy   Bridget   or 

)born  Gretchen. 

Cooperative  housekeeping  is  Insisted  upon  by 
faithful  students  of  sociology  as  the  solu- 


^\ 


exing  problem.      In   some   towns 


'koUfiJs  are  at  present  heated  and  lighted 

[256] 


from  a  central  plant,  and  it  is  proposed  to  have-^^s^ 
the  cooking  for  the  group  done  in  a  designated 
common  kitchen,  the  laundry  work  of  a  given 
number  of  families  done  at  a  common  laundry, 
and  the  several  details  of  housekeeping  taken 
from  the  hands  of  the  individual  housewife 
and  transferred  to  those  of  a  competent  su- 
perintendent. It  is  hardly  probable  that  this 
sort  of  housekeeping  will  become  general  very 
soon.  Deeply  rooted  in  our  thoughts  and 
feelings  is  the  desire  for  the  individual  home,  with 
the  isolation  and  aloofness  that  this  home  im- 
plies. Most  of  us  would  rather  have  a  mutton- 
chop,  broiled  on  our  own  range,  to  the  finest  dish 
sent  in  from  a  near-by  restaurant.  Annoying 
as  are  the  lapses  in  the  service  of  the  different 
Marys  or  Norahs  who  have  held  the  sceptre  in  ,  a 
our  kitchen,  we  remain  sanguine,  expecting  th^  ' 
in  due  time  the  perfect  maid  will  come  to 
relief. 

Nor  should  we  heap  useless  abuse  on  the  mc 
It  is  always  an  axiom  that  a  competent  mistrej 
makes  a  competent  maid.     A  woman  who  bri^s 
to  her  profession  of  hor^making  iijeither  l^iqjDg 
nor  knowledge    must  d^artJ^t^^ja'iU  have 


TJie  Little  Kingdoin  of  Home 


•  more  or  less  difficulty  before  she  finds  the  right 
assistant  to  relieve  her  from  drudgery.  There 
is  danger  of  forgetting  that  women  servants 
are  made  of  flesh  and  blood,  that  they  are  liable 
to  headache  and  backache,  that  they,  as  well  as 
those  for  whom  they  toil,  must  have  time  for 
l)hysical  rest.  Also,  they  have  their  circle  of 
loved  ones,  near  at  hand  or  far  away.  Considera- 
tion of  them  from'  the  standpoint  of  humanity, 
^■eal  affection  for  them  as  friends,  not  hirelings, 
ids  them  to  the  home  as  with  hooks  of  steel. 
I  acknowledge  my  debt  to  a  succession  of  ex- 
llent  women  who  have  lifted  from  me  the 
irdens  ot^misewifery,  and  made  it  possible,  by 
less  and  efficiency,  for  me  to  devote 
id  strength  to  congenial  tasks  beyond 
of  the  home.  As  one  by  one  these 
married  and  gone  to  homes  of  their 
:es  have  been  taken  by  others, 
;warm-hearted  and  competent, 
the  women  who  serve 
and  unmarried.  They 
ing  for  youthful  com- 
rs  have,  and  that  other 
It  is  perfectly  legiti- 


.rtiate.  If  there  is  a  hard  and  fast  rule  in  the  ^ri 
household,  forbidding  their  young  men  friends 
to  call  upon  them  in  the  evening,  they  have  a  right 
to  feel  aggrieved.  No  young  woman  should  be 
compelled  to  do  without  company  of  the  other 
sex  if  she  desires  it,  nor  should  she  be  tempted  to 
flirt  with  the  butcher,  the  baker,  and  the  candle- 
stick maker,  to  carry  on  anything  furtive,  or 
drop  into  ways  detrimental  to  good  morals  and 
good  manners.  She  should  openly  receive  her 
friends  under  the  roof  of  her  mistress,  that 
roof  covering  to  all  practical  purposes  her  home. 
She  is  most  of  the  time  away  from  her  parents, 
brothers,  and  sisters,  or  their  home  may  afford 
no  convenient  place  in  which  young  men  may  visit 
her. 

Unless  all  maids  shall  be  vowed  to  celibacy  ^^^rjs 
and  take  the  veil  as  nuns  do,  there  can  be  neither  '"'*    ^'*' 
sense  nor  propriety   in   forbidding  them   to  s( 
company  when  their  work  is  done.     The  freedoi 
of  their  evenings  may  not  always  be  possible, 
it  is  hardly  pleasant  for  a  grown  woman  to 
obliged    every    time    she    wishes    to    go    out    tc 
come  and  ask  permission.     Some  rrrtStr^^^ises  insist^ 
that  their  maids  shall  never  leave  ihe  iKBi^b£xci 

[259] 


^v 


The  Little  Kingdom  of  Home 


71 


•on  the  stipulated  days  out.  It  is,  of  course,  wise 
in  making  a  contract  to  let  it  be  as  business-like 
as  possible,  and  it  should  be  very  definitely  stated 
for  what  one  is  paying  and  for  what  one  is  paid. 
But  work  in  the  home  cannot  be  reduced  to  the 
same  terms  as  work  in  a  factory.  Few  houses 
are  so  regulated  that  meals  can  always  be  served 
at  the  same  moment ;  some  member  of  the  family 
may  wish  an  early  breakfast  or  come  home  to  a 
late  dinner.  There  are  various  little  details  and 
interruptions  which  come  into  the  progress  of  the 
ordinary  day,  and  to  these  a  maid  must  accommo- 
date herself. 

We  are  told  that  very  recently  a  Housemaids' 

League  has  been  formed  in  which  the  members 

declare  that  their  hours  of  work  must  be  certain 

allotted  ones,   between,   for  instance,   six  in   the 

morning  and  one  in  the  afternoon ;  that  the  hours 

^een  one  and  five  must  be  at  their  own  dis- 

that  all  their  evenings  shall  be  their  own; 

any  work  they  may  do  outside  their  particu- 

realm    is  to  be  paid  for  at  a  fixed  rate  per 

this  league  ever  become  popular 

it  would  have  to  be  met  by  a  corre- 

le  in  which  employers  should  also 

[260] 


ictate  their  own  terms, 
be  to  the  fore,  and  would  rage  until  one  or 
other  party  became  triumphant.  God  forbid 
that  such  a  state  of  things  arise  to  the  shame  of 
the  American  home. 

We  need,  as  woman  to  woman,  to  meet  and 
overcome  the  difficulties  of  the  servant  problem. 
Tliere  must  be  forbearance  and  common  sense 
on  both  sides.    There  must  be  Christian  charity. 

Balancing  the  fact  that  operatives  have  their 
evenings,  is  the  other  fact  that  in  household  labor 
there  are  many  opportunities  for  little  rests  dur- 
ing the  day's  work,  and  that  the  maid,  as  an  inte- 
gral part  of  the  home,  has  a  right  to  all  the  home 
privileges.  If  there  is  a  feast  she  shares  it ;  on 
holiday  occasions,  she,  with  the  rest  of  the  family, 
probably  receives  a  substantial  gift;  she  has  a 
right  to  read,  or  at  least  has  the  privilege  pi 
reading  whatever  newspapers  and  books  are 
the  home;  her  hours  for  churchgoing  are  nqt^ 
only  considered,  but  jealously  guarded  by 
mistress,  who  knows  well  that  the  devout,  co: 
scientious  woman,  whether  or  not  her  creed 
that  of  her  mistress,  is  -vvorth  far  more  tflfthe 


home's  happiness,  than  she  who 
the  claims  upon  her  of  rehgion. 

The  charges  particularly  brought  against  a 
maid  are  usually  charges  of  carelessness  in  the 
use  of  fuel,  of  reckless  breakage,  and  of  waste- 
fulness in  the  materials  she  uses  and  the  food  in 
her  charge,  and  of  impatience  and  intolerance  with 
what  she  considers  interference.  All  these  faults 
and  defects  may  be  remedied  by  judicious  and 
ictful  management  on  the  part  of  the  mistress, 
he  relations  between  mistress  and  maid  should 
^e  respectful  if  not  intimate.  The  latter  neces- 
irily  knows  the  affairs  of  the  family.  They 
Cannot  jj^Hkept  from  her.  She  is  aware  of 
the  family  perplexities,  and  by  de- 
Fns  to  know  the  family  friends  and  ac- 
les,  understands  who  is  welcome  and 
1,  and,  in  a  way,  becomes  the  fam- 
ive  to  the  outsider.  The  manner 
le  hospitable  home  you  visit 
lile  in  the  home  where  there 
to  which  few  guests 
ced  by  indifference  or 

fine  china,  or  destroy 


cherished   heirlooms,   but   why  hand   over  one', 
fragile  china,  one's  precious  possessions,  to  the 
care   of   a    woman    who   never   in    her   hfe   saw 
such   things   before  she   came   into   your  home? 
Women    who    habitually    wash    their    own    fine 
china,  keep  and  hand  it  down  intact  from  mother 
to  daughter.     If  unwilling  to  take  this  trouble, 
one  must  be  philosophical,  if  occasionally  a  valu- 
able piece  is  broken.    Time  spent  in  the  training  of 
servants  when  they  first  enter  the  home  is  well 
spent.     A  mistress  w^ho  is  impatient  of  training, 
w^ho  would  rather  let  things  go  or  do  them  herself 
than  show  her  maid  how  to  do  them  aright,  can- 
not expect  good  results.     I  have  seen,  with  pain 
and  pity,  the  deterioration  of  young  women  who 
might  have  made  excellent  helpers,  but  who  be- 
came discouraged,  who  went  from  one  house  to  an^^^ 
other,  and  at  last  became  useless  and  incompete 
and  like  Ishmael  had  their  hand  against 
man,  and  every  man's  hand  against  them. 

It  is  noticeable  that  one  seldom  sees  a  wo^ 
grown  old  in  service.     What  becomes  of  tl 
rosy-cheeked  young  girls  who  come  to  us  frc 
distant  shores  and  take  up  wo;^-J^^3^i  kitchen? 
Some  of  them,  of  course,  mSi 

[263 


The  Little  Kingdom  of  Home 


•die,  and  it  is  a  comment  on  the  life  we  give  them 
and  the  life  they  might  have,  that  in  hospitals 
one  finds  many  maid  servants  who  are  slowly 
dying  because  they  have  lost  the  red  corpuscles 
from  their  blood;  they  grow  anaemic  because 
they  do  not  take  regular  meals,  because  they  stand 
too  much  on  their  feet,  because  they  have  not 
sufficient  fresh  air  and  exercise,  and  last  of  all, 
because  they  eternally  drink  tea  which  they  keep 
standing  upon  the  range.  They  are  really 
slowly  poisoned.  A  mistress  should  not  only 
advise  her  servant  to  take  her  meals  regularly, 
but  should  see  that  she  does  so.  As  an  older 
and  better  taught  woman,  the  employer  is  re- 
sponsible for  the  health,  comfort,  and  respect- 
ability of  the  woman  she  employs.  When  we 
recognize  this  and  act  upon  it,  we  shall  have  more 
comfort  and  less  complaint  in  the  average  Ameri- 
ihome. 


[264] 


[265] 


m 


jB 


I® 


fe'''T'HE  seal  of  nobility  was  forever  stamped 
"^M"^^  service  by  the  Christ,  who  came  not  to 

iM^   ministered  unto,  but  to  minister,  and  who  said, is 
"  I  am  among  you  as  he  that  serveth." 


[266] 


CHAPTER  XVII. 


•The  Nobility  of  Service 


WHILE  human  nature  remains  what  it  is, 
a  thing-  of  shreds  and  patches,  incon- 
sistent, fallible  and  full  of  contradic- 
tions, it  is  unlikely  that  we  shall  ever  appreciate  as 
we  ought  the  true  nobility  of  service.    Our  blessed 
Lord,  when  he  came  into  the  world,  took  to  him- 
self no  higher  distinction  than  this,  in  his  declara- 
tion to  his  disciples,  "  I  am  among  you  as  he 
that  serveth."     By  example  and  precept,   Jesus 
put  the  emphasis  of  his  approval  upon  humility, 
and  if  ever  society  shall  model  itself  upon  the 
precepts  of  the  Sermon  on  the  Mount,  and  shall 
take  Jesus   Christ  as   its   great   inspiration   ^ndV  \)(l^ 
example,  there  will  be  an  end  of  pride  in  rtm^,  Z^y^y 
worldly  honor.    Visionary  enthusiasts  have  ms.de^'^---^ 
the  attempt  to  obliterate   class   lines,  and  Ys^^a, 
tried  to  show  that  people  should  all  mingle  ^^^ 
gether  on  precisely  the  same  plane.     On  thc/^ce 
of  it,  this  must  ever  be , impossible.     If  socJ4tly  as 
a  w^hole  to-day  were  g^iveh  tfip^^^:  aJi/itlyiwts 


The  Little  Khigdom  of  Home 


the  same  privileges,  the  same  homes,  and  ad- 
vantages, and  if  the  wealth  of  the  world  were 
equally  divided  among  high  and  low,  it  would 
not  be  long  before  things  would  resolve  them- 
selves again  into  their  component  elements. 
Like  would  seek  like;  the  learned  and  refined 
would  inevitably  drift  together,  and  there  would 
be  no  good  or  permanent  results  from  the  ex- 
periment. 

That  service  is  inherently  noble  and  digni- 
fied, is  an  axiom  which  we  accept  without  contra- 
diction, but  when  it  comes  to  the  statement  that 
the  service  of  our  particular  Maggie  or  Mary 
in  the  kitchen,  the  service  of  the  man  who  comes 
for  the  ashes  and  that  of  the  man  who  digs  up  the 
garden  are  as  honorable  as  any  other  form  of 
day  labor  that  is  faithfully  and  bravely  per- 
formed, we  hesitate.  AVe  do  not  give  the  assent 
h  means  conviction.  In  reality,  and  in 
s  sight,  one  working  woman  or  man  is 
ood  as  another  and  no  better.  Painting  sun- 
and  mixing  puddings  are  equally  honor- 
■^ason.  He  who  manages  an  army, 
ds  in  the  thoroughfare  and  keeps 
carriages  in  order  so  that  pedes- 

[268] 


.frians  may  pass  on  safely,  are  equally  serving 
the  state,  and  fulfilling  their  duty  to  the  age. 

After  all,  the  chief  thing  is,  that  each  in  his  or 
her  place  shall  perform  faithfully  whatever  duty 
be  undertaken,  heartily  as  to  the  Lord,  and  not 
to  men. 

To  this  end,  it  would  be  an  improvement  if 
every  woman  at  home  thoroughly  understood 
every-day  service,  and  knew  the  demand  made 
upon  muscles  and  nerves  in  ordinary  labor. 

Every  mother  owes  it  to  her  daughter  that  she 
shall  practically  understand  the  meaning  of 
labor;  understand  it  by  performance.  Let  the 
young  girl  personally  undertake  her  own  wash- 
ing and  ironing  for  a  week  or  two,  and  she  will 
have  sympathy  with  Katy  and  Norah.  She  will 
know  what  work  means.  Let  a  woman  rise  in 
the  early  hours  between  darkness  and  da\\Ti,  ligh 
a  fire  in  the  stove,  make  the  coffee  and  the  b 
cuits,  and  prepare  breakfast  for  a  half-dozen 
hungry  people,  and  she  will  understand  bet 
than  she  hitherto  has,  what  the  cook  does  ever 
morning  of  her  life. 

Some  time  ago,  a  young  lady,  who  had^^^n 
graduated  from  a  New 


The  Little  Kmgdom  of  Home 


.took  for  herself  to  discover  just  what  was  ex- 
pected from  a  woman  in  a  small  family,  so  far  as 
the  ordinary  work  was  concerned.  She  accepted 
the  position  of  housemaid.  She  speedily  found 
that  while  her  early  training  stood  her  in  stead, 
while  she  knew  how  to  bake  and  to  brew  and  to 
broil,  while  every  process  was  familiar  to  her, 
yet  the  work  was  arduous  and  wearisome  to  the 
last  degree.  Her  employer  had  no  idea  whatever 
the  time  it  took  to  do  any  special  thing;  she 
no  thought  that  housework  may  be  made 
istic;  that  it  is  not  always  necessary  that  it 
)uld  move  as  the  stars  move  in  their  course, 
Wording  tg^y^  established  order.  Though  the 
never  so  clean,  the  weekly  sweeping 
could  never  be  omitted.  If  visitors 
|e  house,  the  lady  was  anxious  to  im- 
>with  her  own  dignity,  and  was  an- 
|iey  commented  on  the  niceness  and 
of"  the  maid,  whom  she  seemed  to 
.fter  a  '^ew  vv©eks  spent  in  this  dis- 
^servico^this  masquerading  student 
lew  w%  young  women,  simi- 
lent    and    intelligence. 


scorned  domestic  service  and  took  up  any  other 
line  of  work  in  preference. 

From  time  to  time  endeavors  are  made  to 
secure  better  service  in  our  homes  through  the 
medium  of  training-schools.  Domestic  science 
is  taught  as  never  before,  cooking-schools 
abound,  experts  impart  everything  that  can  be 
supposed  essential  to  the  fitting  out  of  the  perfect 
servant.  I  am  not  sanguine  that  in  a  republican 
country  where  everything  social  is  in  a  ferment, 
such  schools  will  do  more  than  temporarily  to 
help  along.  They  will,  undoubtedly,  enable  the 
working  woman  to  command  a  higher  rate  of 
wages,  but  unless  they  also  teach  her,  and  some- 
how teach  her  employer,  too,  that  domestic  serv- 
ice is  not  in  itself  ignoble,  and  that  one  who 
enters  upon  it  loses  no  one's  esteem,  they  will 
fail  of  their  aim. 

Years   ago,   I   knew  a   woman  who   came  t^ 
this  country  from  a  foreign  land,  bringing  wit 
her  two  little  sons.     Her  husband  had  precedj 
her  by  some  months,  that  he  might  make  a 
promising  to  send  for  her.     In  England,  she  ha( 
had  every  comfort  and  convenieiie^l^iBvjtier  little^ 
cottage,   though   luxuries   were  iew^  She   ^\ 

[271] 


neat,  fairly  intelligent,  and  a  frugal  house- 
keeper. Arriving  here,  she  discovered  that  her 
perfidious  husband  had  taken  to  himself  another 
wife,  who  honestly  supposed  herself  to  be  mar- 
ried to  him.  The  heart-broken  woman  went  to 
the  home,  satisfied  herself  that  she  was  forsaken, 
with  wonderful  self-restraint  did  not  disclose  her 
identity,  and  turned  her  back  on  the  man  who 
had  deceived  her.  She  took  her  little  boys  to  a 
relative,  who  gave  them  shelter,  and  she  herself 
found  employment  in  the  only  capacity  for 
which  she  was  fitted,  that  of  housekeeper  in  a 
wealthy  family.  She  held  this  position  for  some 
years,  respected  by  her  employers,  equal  to  the 
demands  the  position  made,  never  asking  to  be 
admitted  into  the  circle  of  her  employers'  friends, 
nor  desiring  it.  In  time,  her  boys  grew  up,  did 
well  in  business,  and  were  able  to  make  a  home 
their  brave  mother.  She  had  illustrated  the 
ty  and  dignity  of  a  life  of  service  as  few 
men  had  done,  and  in  the  home  where  she 
t  her  old  age,  and  from  which,  a  year  or  two 
she  passed  away,  she  was  venerated  as  good 

efect  in  the  education  of  boys  and 
[272] 


^  girls  brought  up  outside  of  country  homes  is? 
that  they  learn  little  of  practical  work,  and  have 
to  do  little  with  their  hands.  The  mind  receives 
its  full  share  of  training,  but  the  hands  do  little 
task  work.  A  country  boy  has  any  number  of 
things  to  do  for  his  father  and  mother :  errands, 
work  on  the  farm,  animals  to  feed,  mail  to  carry, 
a  dozen  things  every  day.  He  grows  up  an  all- 
around  man,  and,  going  away  from  home  to  a 
city,  often  outstrips  the  keener-witted  and  more 
clever  boys  who  had  the  advantage  at  the  start  in 
city  life.  If  mothers  in  town  have  nothing  for 
their  boys  to  do,  they  should  create  something. 

Neither  boys  nor  girls  should  be  permitted  to 
treat  servants,  or  people  employed  about  their 
homes,  with  anything  except  entire  respect  and 
civility.  It  is  a  wrong  to  children,  as  well  as  to 
those  whom  they  seem  to  think  beneath  the 
if  they  do  not  recognize  the  right  of  every 
to  courtesy. 

We  lose  immensely  by  failing  to  remember 
fact  that  every  one  we  meet  may  teach  us  somj 
thing  worth  our  knowing.     The  engineer,  \wio 
safely  conducts  the  great  train  across  the  ooriti 
nent,  is  fitly  thanked  byJ^i^f'dffllfiwK^Df  .the 


The  Little  Kingdom  of  Home 


m 


republic,   who  has  been   one  of  the  passengers^ 
on  the  train,   for  he  has  done  a  great  service. 
His  knowledge,  not  that  of  those  he  has  carried, 
has  in  that  sphere  its  preeminent  value. 

Every  day  of  our  lives  we  owe  more  than 
we  dream  to  the  fidelity,  courage,  and  resource 
of  the  average  man  who  merely  does  his  plain 
duty  without  any  fuss.  Society  could  not  get  on ; 
the  community  would  fall  to  pieces  if  we  did  not 
[^1  depend  upon  one  another  for  kindnesses, 
ike,  for  instance,  the  milk-supply  of  a  great 
Ity.  Which  of  us  thinks  very  much  about  the 
mds  that,  very  early  in  the  morning,  load  the 
-cans  aji^  crates  on  the  trains  that  come 
Prom  th^^reat  farming  districts;  or  about  the 
who  take  the  cans  and  crates  from 
!it  the  terminal,  convey  them  to  wagons, 
^  the  bottles  of  cream  and  milk  from 
«otise?  If  one  is  awake  very  early  in 
ij^gy-iie  may  hear  the  quiet,  even  steps 
who  FeaVes  at  the  door  the  supply  of 
^Jjreakfast-table,  the  food 
Lwhil^Jji^ma^Pahon^  the  baby  depends  for 

^re  the  milk-supply  of  a 
^enty-four  hours,  in- 

[274] 


calculable  suffering  and  multiplied  deaths  wouk 
result  among  infants,  invalids,  and  convalescents, 
to  whom  this  one  commodity  is  the  means  of  life. 

Think  again  of  those  splendid  heroes,  seldom 
rewarded  with  civic  honors,  or  written  on  the 
scroll  of  fame,  who  fight  fire  in  our  cities. 
Among  heroes  none  should  rank  much  higher 
than  the  firemen,  who  risk  life  and  limb,  and 
scorn  danger,  so  long  as  they  may  save  life  and 
property. 

Wherever  we  go,  we  jostle  on  the  streets  men 
and  women  of  rare  courage  and  real  heroism, 
who  yet  do  not  suspect  that  they  are  heroic  or 
courageous. 

We  do  not  think  very  much  about  the  family 
doctor  as  a  hero,  yet  from  time  to  time  he  takes 
his  life  in  his  hand,  and  many  a  noble  physician 
has  fallen  in  the  service  of  science  and  humanity. 

"  I  am  among  you,"  said  Jesus,  "  as  he  that 

'  eth." 

lady  visiting  this  country  for  the  first  time 

d  what  impressed  her  most  unfavorably  here 

the  slight  respect  we  had  for  service,  and  the 

seemed  to  imply.     She  said  very 

e  going  forward  in  a  great  man}.- 

[275] 


iS". 


The  Little  Kingdom  of  Home 


m 


ways,  but  you  seem  to  have  retrograded  in  much 
that  belongs  to  the  comfort,  economy,  and  good- 
management  of  the  home."  Where  everybody  is 
trying  to  chmb  a  peg  higher,  and  nobody  seems  to 
understand  that  it  is  honorable  for  one  to  wait 
upon  another,  there  must  be  something  radically 
wrong. 

Reforms  of  every  kind  begin  with  the  intelli- 
gent, and  the  far-seeing.  They  must  start  with 
the  aristocracy.  When  those  who  have  had  most 
by  way  of  endowment  act  upon  what  they  know, 
service  will  rise  to  its  true  plane. 


[276] 


1^771 


[2781 


^Home  and  Charity 


it 


T 


HE  p(X)r  ye  have  always  with  you," 
said  our  Lord,  when  here  among  men. 
We  cannot  shut  our  hearts  against  the 
appeal  of  suffering,  nor  decline  to  help  those  who, 
for  one  reason  or  another,  ask  us  to  give  them  a 
lift. 

"  If  Jesus  came  to  earth  again 
And  walked  and  talked  in  field  and  street, 
Who  would  not  lay  his  human  pain 
Low  at  those  heavenly  feet?" 

If  Jesus  came  to  New  York  or  Chicago,  Bos- 
ton   or    St.     Louis,    meeting    twentieth-century^^ 
conditions,  as    he  met  those  which  surround^ 
him  so  long  ago  in  Galilee,  he  would  not  ti 
away  from  the  world's  poor.     As  he  had  cc 
passion    on    the   multitudes    and    fed    them, 
would  feed  them  now.     As  he  had  healing 
the  blind  and  the  lame,  he  would  have  healing 
now.    As  crowds  sought  him  t 
seek  him  now. 

[279] 


rj' 


TJie  Little  Kingdom  of  Home 


The  blessed  spirit  of  the  Christ  is  in  our  forms 
of  organized  charity,  as  it  is  in  every  individual 
effort  we  make  to  save,  to  redeem,  to  comfort 
the  outcast,  the  criminal,  and  the  discouraged. 
For  the  depraved  and  delinquent  classes  among 
us,  we  must  have  increasing  pity,  if  we  realize 
that  they  are  the  inevitable  debris  of  our  civiliza- 
tion. Nor  can  we  evade  our  responsibility  for 
those  who  go  astray.  Somehow,  somewhere 
they  took  a  wrong  turning.  It  is  the  part  of 
every  one  who  has  sons  and  daughters,  to  care 
for  the  sons  and  daughters  of  others,  who  have 
gone  aside,  through  temptation,  from  the  straight 
and  narrow  path.  It  is  the  part  of  every  one  who 
sits  in  a  snug  house,  beside  a  bright  fire,  to  think 
of  the  wanderer,  ill-clad,  shivering,  tossed  like  a 
waif  on  the  rough  sea  of  the  world. 

Ah,  friends,  the  home  must  not  bolt  and  bar 

£)ors,   nor   the  heart   barricade   its   fortress 

agaHist  the  forlorn  outsider,  who  stands  at  the 

.gate,   knocking,  knocking.     Nor  with  grudging 

reluctant  hand  must  heart  and  home  dole 

has  no  interest  in  the  world's 
rk    is  a  dwarfed  and  abortive 

[280] 


i6me.  Those  who  dwell  in  it  will  become  shriv- 
elled and  soul-warped.  A  perfunctory  interest  is 
not  enough;  The  sort  of  charitable  giving  that 
now  and  then  spares  a  dime  or  a  dollar  in  re- 
sponse to  an  eloquent  oratorical  appeal,  is  as  a 
drop  to  the  ocean,  when  compared  with  the 
mighty  need  that  is  on  every  side,  that  must  be 
met  by  those  who  give  one  by  one,  yet  whose 
gifts  flow  into  broad  and  deep  channels,  are  spon- 
taneous,   intelligent,   and   above   all,    systematic. 

For  practical  purposes,  it  is  much  better  that 
a  home  should  contribute  its  annual  proportion 
to  a  hospital,  a  settlement,  an  endeavor  for  prison 
reform,  a  work  for  men  released  from  prison, 
a  work  of  rescue  or  relief,  than  that  a  single 
large  donation  should  be  made  and  the  matter 
dismissed.  There  are  generous  givers,  who,  out 
of  their  abundance,  endow  and  sustain  magnifi; 
cent  charities ;  there  are  givers,  as  generous,  wh( 
out  of  their  poverty,  regularly  pay  the  fees  which^ 
make  them  associates  in  the  support  of  charitat 
institutions.  Tlie  last  are  not  less  useful, 
less  indispensable  than  the  first. 

To  receive  in  the  home  itself  the  full  swjfi 
ness  and  blessedness  that 


1^       The  Little  Kingdom  of  Home 

'I B 

with  charity,  there  must  needs  be  sacrifice  and-^ 
knowledge. 

One  may  not  be  able  to  draw  a  large  check, 
and  endow  a  hospital  bed,  one  may  not  be  able 
to  furnish  a  hospital  room,  yet  there  are  people 
of  limited  means,  who  might,  if  they  chose,  ab- 
breviate some  of  their  superfluities,  and  help  on 
the  good  work  of  a  hospital,   here  or  abroad. 
Hospitals,  for  the  cure  of  disease,  are  as  swift 
their  cry  to  the  compassionate  heart  if  they 
md  in  a  Syrian  or  Chinese  city,  as  in  our  own 
^ar  home  land.     Commerce  and  conquest  and 
)us  effort  are  fast  sweeping  away  boundary- 
corner  of  the  globe  seems  remote 
merican  fireside  in  this  time  of  con- 
and  rapid  geographical  and  political 


r  a  friend,  knq 
very  essenc 
6t  spend 

amulets  to  bring  smi 


dear  one  be  taken  away,  there  is  no 

keeping   the   cherished   memory 

by  doing  some  kind  deed,  regularly, 

nown,  who  is  in  want. 

is  friendliness.     We 

ime  in  this  brief  life, 

Our  tears  should  be 

d  faces,  for  the  sake 


[282] 


of  a  happy  past,  and  of  myriad  withered  hopes. 
Tombstones  where  elaborate  devices  are  carved 
have  their  place  beside  the  grave,  but  they  should 
be  simple,  not  costly.  The  money  they  might  cost 
would  better  go  to  uplift  some  lowliness,  to  re- 
lieve some  heartache,  to  enable  some  crippled 
child  to  walk,  or  blind  child  to  see. 

From  a  home,  most  beautiful  in  every  appoint- 
ment, most  exquisite  in  its  culture  and  refine- 
ment, a  young  girl  was  called  higher.  Her  going 
made  a  wide  swath  of  desolation.  But  soon 
her  parents,  for  Elsie's  sake,  found  another  girl, 
in  the  sunny  dawn  of  seventeen,  with  ambitions, 
talents,  needs,  with  an  unfolding  life.  "  We  will 
spend  on  her,"  they  said,  "  for  Elsie's  sake,  what 
we  would  have  spent  for  Elsie.  She  shall  have 
books,  teachers,  a  college  course,  everything 
Elsie  would  have  had,  and  thus,  day  by  day,  yej 
by  year,  we  will  remember  our  darling." 

A  scholarship  in  a  college,  either  for  wo 
or  men,  unites  a  home  with  a  wonderfully  end 
ing  means  of  doing  good.     The  rich  cannot 
a  nobler  use  for  wealth  than  in  extending  t 
privileges  of  education  to  thos^^MjB  hunger  a: 
thirst  for  culture  and  learning,^»B£are  deba 

[283]' 


The  Little  Kmgdom  of  Home 


by  penury.     One  need  not  be  rich  to  take  some 
small  share  in  furthering  the  ends  of  those  col- 
leges and   universities,   or  those  special   schools 
which  educate  young  people  and  prepare  them  for 
life.    A  few  years  hence  and  the  control  of  every- 
thing governmental  will  be  vested  in  the  educated 
young  men  and  women  who  are  to  come  from 
the  colleges.     It  is  less  charity  than  an  impulse 
to  self-preservation   which  leads  to  their  being 
generously  supported  by  the  homes  of  the  land. 
Most   homes   have   their  personal   pensioners, 
whose  claim  on  them  is  of  blood,  or  of  age  and 
debility,  or  of  old  acquaintance.     These  friends, 
if  aided,  must  be  aided  delicately,  not  with  conde- 
scension  and   patronage,   but   with   sincere   joy. 
An  old  servant,  perhaps,  laid  aside  from  life's 
activities,  has  found  asylum  in  a  Home  for  the 
Indigent;   she   is   not  to   be   overlooked,   nor  is 
uty  done  when  her  expenses  are  paid,  her 
'eiitf'a'nce-fee  settled,  her  little  flat  purse  supplied 
;b" change.     Somebody  must  visit  her  now  and 
She  must  have  a  glimpse  of  the  bigger 
V(^ld.     Her  little  fads  and  fancies  must  be  pro- 
vided^c^lrt^/^^y  back  in  the  hill  country,  where 
"'■^one^s  ojiildlioo^was  spent,  there  may  be  an  old 

[284] 


^couple,  too  feeble  to  wrest  subsistence  from  the 
stony  soil  that  once  yielded  them  a  living.  They 
would  not  be  happy  in  the  spacious  town-house, 
where  some  of  their  kin  have  every  possible  com- 
fort. Nevertheless,  they  are  to  be  looked  after, 
loved,  boxes  are  to  be  sent  them,  and  letters  often 
written.  They  are  a  part  of  the  home's  oppor- 
tunity to  do  good,  and  thereby  enrich  itself 
spiritually  and   mentally. 

To  adopt  orphan  children  into  one's  own 
family,  treating  them  in  every  way  as  if  they 
were  indeed  one's  own,  is  a  form  of  char- 
ity that  seldom  fails  to  bring  a  benediction  in  its 
wake.  True,  the  adopted  child  does  not  always 
fulfil  every  expectation.  For  that  matter,  the 
children  of  one's  family  line  are  often  disappoint- 
ments. True,  heredity  is  a  factor  that  cannot  be 
ignored.  But  as  George  MacDonald  has  sai( 
'*  every  child  is  God's  child,"  and  with  right  hoi 
training,  the  child,  handicapped  at  the  start, 
eventually  surmount  every  obstacle,  and 
into  useful  maturity. 

A  home  is  the  gainer  for  having  in  it  a 
whose  claim   on   its   love,   care,  and  pati( 
not  the  claim  of  birth 


The  Little  Kingdom  of  Home 


a 


</' 


strange  child,  fledgeling  of  a  deserted  nest,  waif 
of  destiny,  orphaned  in  infancy,  or  in  its  early 
years,  has  not  about  it  those  who  excuse  and  con- 
done its  faults,  because  they  discern  only  too  well 
whence  they  spring.  A  far  greater  unselfishness 
bears  with,  a  greater  anxiety  deals  with  the  mis- 
demeanors of  an  adopted  child  than  is  the  portion 
of  the  home's  own  child.  If  only  a  true  and 
Heaven-given  affection  accompany  every  step, 
and  the  little  one  have  fair  play  all  along,  and 
lething  more,  namely,  a  good  measure  of 
impionship,  the  adopted  parents  will  not  lose 
\\x  reward. 

ago,  in  a  fair  Kentucky  home, 
'\vas  already  a  bonny  brood  of  chil- 
Jood  man  of  the  house  came  in,  one 
with  a  look  of  trouble  in  his  face, 
■nd  girls  gathered  around  him,  clamor- 
welcome  home  after  his  day's  ride, 
the  shire  town,  some  miles  dis- 
nng  cot^j_l^  wife,  reading  every 
of  his^Gunt^ance  as  one  reads  a 
liliar^'piage,  saife:^  ''^^ 

i^atheciaeO-^^I^  httle   fellow,   seven 


[286] 


.years  old,  down  below  in  the  village.  His  father 
and  mother  are  dead;  it's  a  pitiful  story,  and  they 
are  carrying  him  to  the  almshouse.  I  had  half 
a  mind  to  bring  the  laddie  here." 

"  Go  right  back  and  get  him,  John,"  was  the 
wife's  instant  request,  or  command. 

The  boy  was  brought;  a  ragged,  dirty,  tliin, 
undersized  scrap  of  a  child,  who  had  been  starved 
and  cold  so  long  that  he  did  not  know  what  to 
make  of  warmth  and  food.  In  the  home  that 
opened  its  loving  heart  to  him,  he  fared  as  the 
others  did.  He  was  washed  and  dressed  and 
sent  to  school;  he  was  taught  to  fear  God,  and 
obey  teachers  and  governors.  And  there  he 
grew,  as  the  others  did,  into  clean,  strong,  noble 
manhood,  devoted  to  his  foster-parents,  and  in 
all  ways  a  credit  to  them.  What  might  have  ^  ,,yp, 
been  the  issue  had  he  been  left  to  the  rough  nuiy^i^flO 
ture  of  public  charity,  only  God  knows. 

"  Our  little  daughter  is  too  self-centred, 
autocratic,"   said   a  mother   one   day.      "  Woi 
you  mind.  Will,  if  I   found  a  little  girl  at 
orphanage  and  brought  her  here  to  be  a  siste^i 
to  Helen?" 

The  man  shrugged  his  shotf^ 

[287] 


The  Little  Kingdom  of  Home 


In  his  eyes  his  small  lassie  was  without  a  peer* 
He  was  blind  to  anything  in  her  character  that 
might  need  correction  or  kind  discipline. 

"  Do  just  as  you  like,  Jane,"  he  replied.  Jane 
did.  The  blue-eyed,  fair-haired  child  she  chose 
to  be  a  sister  to  her  dark,  vivid  blossom  of  a 
daughter  proved  then,  and  ever  after,  an  un- 
speakable joy,  and  in  days  to  come,  it  was  hard 
for  the  parents  to  say  which  girl  they  loved  the 
better,  or  which  loved  them  the  more  tenderly. 
Child-rearing  is  so  much  more  successful  in 
the  individual  household  than  in  the  very  best 
asylum  or  institution  that  can  be  found,  that  one 
wishes,  with  strong  earnestness,  that  orphan 
children  might  always  find  their  place  of  shelter 
and  upbringing  in  the  warm  and  compassionate 
arc  of  some  real  mother's  arms. 

Indiscriminate  charity  is  the  resort  of  the  lazy 

the   self-indulgent.     As  we  step  along  the 

?ment,  and  the  whining  request  of  a  street- 

ll^gar,   professionally  asking   alms,   assails   our 

\r,  we  do  not  like  to  say  no,  and  a  coin  is  slipped 

the   outstretched    palm.      Should    we    give 

light  be  haunted  all  day  by  a  vision 

might  have  relieved,  of  suffering 

[288] 


we  might  have  soothed.  From  hardness  of 
heart,  and  bhndness  of  mind,  and  grudgingness 
of  charity,  good  Lord  dehver  us !  Yet,  in  a  ma- 
jority of  instances,  the  beggar  on  the  pavement 
is  not  the  one  we  ought  to  help.  We  do  not 
fulfil  our  duty,  if,  either  personally,  or  by  proxy, 
we  fail  to  investigate  the  cases  of  those  who 
seem  to  be  in  want. 

Each  household,  if  around  it  be  any  field  for 
charity,  should  take  under  its  watchful  care  an- 
other household,  destitute,  or  desolate,  or  af- 
flicted. The  children's  clothes,  as  they  are  out- 
grown, the  father's  overcoat  when  it  becomes  a 
little  shabby,  the  mother's  cast-off  gowns  and 
wraps,  should  be  refurbished  for  these  friends. 
If  a  chance  comes  to  secure  work  for  any  of 
them,  or  in  any  way  to  improve  their  condition,  let 
the  more  fortunate  home  take  it  in  charge.  I 
the  utmost  friendliness  let  the  assistance  be  giv 
and  if,  as  may  happen,  this  home  emerges  fr 
the  shadow,  and  requires  no  more  kind  vigila 
set  it  to  care  for  another  in  its  turn,  while  t 
first  home  seeks  out  again  a  family  requir 
suggestions,  sympathy,  ajd,  love,  but  usuallii^ot 
money.     The    crudest 


\>.- 


m 


g: 


Ni» 


The  Little  Kingdom  of  Home 


tp! 


-money.    The  higher  charity  gives  of  its  own  soul,  Jl\ 
its  own  days  and  nights,  its  experience  and  its 
faith. 

Bread  cast  upon  the  waters  may  come  back 
after  many  days,  A  good  man,  in  the  period  of  his 
affluence,  poured  out  lavishly  on  friends,  kindred, 
and  the  poor  his  bounty,  considering  himself 
God's  almoner.  A  sequence  of  untoward  events, 
for  none  of  which  he  was  responsible,  left  him 
)r,  and  he  moved  from  his  home-town  to  a 
If^t  city,  where  in  an  obscure  clerkship  he  died. 
/'[On  the  day  of  the  funeral,  the  widow  and 
ighters  had  neither  loaf  nor  purse  in  the 
ley  sat  together  in  the  gathering 
(•hbor  tapped  at  the  door, 
you  would  be  too  tired  to  prepare  a 
le  said,  "  so  I  ventured  to  bring  you 
►set  down  a  dainty  tray  and  departed 

said  the  mother,  "  we  have  nothing, 
rust  youl^^^^s  God." 
ne  nejg^S^Sfwf  a  messenger  left  a 

father's  fellow  clerks 
letter  of  regret  and 
dollars.     "  We  send 


.it   instead   of   flowers,   which   we   did   not   send 
yesterday,  thinking  they  would  soon  fade." 

The  first  mail  brought  a  letter  from  an  old 
friend,  enclosing  a  check  for  two  hundred  dollars. 
"  Once,"  said  the  writer,  "  when  I  was  in  straits, 
Ralph  helped  me." 

In  three  days  six  hundred  dollars  came  to  the 
widow,  every  dollar  a  surprise,  and  e\'ery  one  a 
testimony  to  the  radiance  of  the  life-torch  that 
had  lighted  others  in  dark  hours. 

No  home  is  the  poorer  for  wide,  sweet,  and 
wholesome  charities. 

Too  often  we  set  before  children  as  their  guid- 
ing star,  the  saving  of  money.  Our  ethical 
standards  are  low.  Honesty  is  the  best  policy. 
But  money  saved  for  savings'  sake  and  honesty 
from  politic  motives  are  alike  mean,  and  savor 
of  the  dust.  Be  honest.  Be  thrifty.  Be 
that  you  may  have  an  unstained  character,  thi 
you  may  have  something  to  give  when  calk 
upon,  that  you  may  be  a  blessing  to  your  tii 
This  is  the  lesson  we  need  to  impress  on  q^ 
homes  from  coast  to  coast,  from  Maine  to  Ore^ 
gon. 

[291] 


[293] 


given, 
1  dome, 
And  all  thy  hues  were  born  in  heaven." 


[294] 


CHAPTER  XIX. 


Home  and  the  Flag 


IN   this   wide   country   of   ours,   no   problem 
gives  us  greater  anxiety  than  that  of  im- 
migration.    From  every  corner  of  the  globe, 
from  every  tribe  and  nation,  seeking  our  shores 
in  the  hope  of  finding  a  home  under  our  flag, 
come  the  poor,    the   ignorant,   the   discouraged, 
and  the  irreligious.     Not  every  immigrant  who 
finds  a  haven  here  belongs  to  those  classes,  but 
the  majority  of  our  foreign-born   residents  are 
in  some  sort  of  those  who  have  been  beaten  and 
baffled  thus  far  in  the  hard  strifes  of  the  world. 
Paupers  and  criminals  are  indeed  excluded  b)j^,^^^^ 
statutory  enactment,   and  those  who  land  mj 
have  a  clean  record  and  the  means  for  a  bej 
ning,  at  least,  of  a  support ;   they  must  not  c^ 
absolutely  penniless  to  the  new  land.    But  w( 
not  shut  out  honest  poverty,  and  God  grant-* 
never  may.     Our  territory  is  sufficient  for,  of 
resources    are    equal   to,    our    opfx^rttmities    aL;^. 
meant    for    whatever    responsibility    God  ^Jlt^s 

[295; 


•upon  us  for  the  peoples  of  the  globe.  Once  here, 
though  the  first  generation  may  not  climb  beyond 
the  point  of  forgetting  its  homesickness  and 
accommodating  itself  to  the  novel  environment, 
the  second,  trained  in  our  public  schools,  will 
become  itself  a  product  of  the  soil,  and  make 
fine  material  for  good  citizenship,  while  the  third 
will  attain  to  civic  eminence,  and  very  likely 
assume  the  reins  of  government.  It  is  idle  for 
patriotic  Americans  to  sit  in  the  seat  of  the 
scornful  with  regard  to  the  foreign  element  who 
are  bringing  to  us  brawn  and  sinev/,  and  assimi- 
lating with  speed  the  best  that  a  free  country' 
has  to  give.  Here  they  are,  the  fair-haired  chil- 
dren of  Northern  Europe,  the  keen-eyed  men 
of  Syria,  the  olive-skinned  mountaineers  of  Italy, 
the  impassive  folk  from  the  coasts  of  China,  the 
[ick-witted  sons  of  the  Hebrew  race,  from 
rever  Gentile  intolerance  has  set  on  them 
-uel  foot, 
[n  our  schools,  morning  after  morning,  the 
)ils  rise,  and  in  concert  salute  the  Stars  and 
?,  the  children  of  many  lands,"  they 
>ur  country's  flag."  No  better 
in  the  class-room  than  the  lesson 

[296] 


of  loyalty  to  the  land  that  shelters  and  the  flag 
that  protects  the  children  growing  up  to  be  good 
Arnericans. 

The  school  does  its  part,  and  the  homes  from 
which  the  children  of  the  tailor,  the  cobbler,  and 
the  day-laborer  come,  in  their  way  and  as  they 
can,  do  theirs.  Having  known  want  and  pri- 
vation, the  foreigner,  pushing  toward  the  goal 
of  plenty  and  learning,  thrift  and  prudence,  ap- 
preciates what  the  new  land  has  to  offer  him. 
Limited  in  vocabulary,  alien  in  language,  unused 
to  the  situations  which  confront  him,  the  domi- 
nant sentiment  in  the  mind  of  the  immigrant  is 
almost  universally  that  of  gratitude  allied  to 
hope,  hope  less  for  himself  than  for  his  children. 

Our    plain    American    homes    are    the    main- 
stay and  the  corner-stone  of  the  great  republic. 
Whether  or  not  we  acknowledge  it,  the  stabilit;^' 
and  the  fair  fame  of  every  community  rest 
the  individual  homes  that  compose  it.     So,  t. 
nation's   security,    the   nation's   good   name   r 
on  the  myriad  homes  that  make  up  its  immenp 
sity,  and  in  no  uncertain  tone  give  their  verd^fct 
on  public  questions  at  tl\e,  ballot-box,  ^;^ 

When  the  dry-rot  of  degenefacv  attaacS^^^ 


homes  of  the  country,  the  country  itself  wil 
suffer  from  the  gangrene  of  corruption.  When 
a  democracy  degenerates,  it  degenerates  in  the 
circumference,  because  there  is  disease  at  the 
centre.  Our  homes  are  the  throbbing  heart  of 
the  nation.  Wealth,  learning,  luxury,  culture, 
travel,  refinement,  will  avail  us  nothing  to  ar- 
rest decay,  if  there  be  an  insidious  poison  eating 
into  the  core  of  vitality. 

Therefore,  with  pain  and  fear  we  note  a  grow- 
ing indifference  to  politics  in  our  households,  and 
springing  from  this,  a  growing  reluctance  on  the 
)art  of  our  educated  men  to  engage  in  them. 
''oung.jBgn,  the  fine  product  of  our  best  uni- 
the  pride  of  our  most  exclusive  homes, 
for,  and  prize  little,  the  power  that  every 
American  should  estimate  as  the  coro- 
manhood,   the  vote.     Home  con- 
;rests    itself    too    much    in    small 
tqqjittle  agitated,  enriched, 
affairs  of  the  nation, 
itain,  the  educated  men 
Duntry  and  of  the  town 
convictions,    strongly 
asserted;    they  know 


phs.tinaitely  hel 


[298] 


the  complexion  and  the  involutions  and  compli- 
cations of  their  politics,  and  are  familiar  with 
their  leaders  and  their  party  tactics.     Here  we 
have  little  deference  for  our  greatest  men,  small 
concern,    till    a    gigantic    infamy    precipitates    a 
sporadic  reform,  as  to  the  management  or  mis- 
management of  our  common  heritage.     Ameri- 
cans are  proverbially  easy-going  and  long-suffer- 
ing,  enduring   much   of  wrong   that   should   be 
resisted,  before  they  make  a  protest  at  the  polls. 
The  country  is  still  young;   its  progress  has  been 
by  magic  strides;    out  of  the  ground,  yielding 
its  magnificent  harvests,  out  of  the  depths  of  the 
earth,  where  coal  and  oil  and  gold  and  copper 
and  silver  have  made  men  rich  beyond  the  dreams 
of   antiquity,    from   our   vast   rivers   and   inland 
seas,  from  such  wealth  as  Nature  is  prodigal  ^i^^^-^r- 
on  this  great  continent,  our  material  affluence 
increased,    furthered    by    the    achievements 
modern  science.     We  have  suffered  deteriorat 
in   that   gradually   ethical   standards   have 
lowered,  and  to  accumulate  a  fortune  has  becc 
the  most  eagerly  coveted  goal  of  ambition.    TfiJ 
multi-millionaire,    the   man 
and  perhaps  of  that  unscrupul( 

[299j^ 


The  Little  Kingdom  of  Home 


keeping  to  the   letter   of   integrity,   violates   its^ 
spirit,  has  been  held  up  before  boys  as  the  finest 
ideal  they  can  have.     In  the  craze  for  money- 
making,  patriotism  has  had  secondary  place  and 
consideration. 

We  are  urgently  in  need  of  a  reaction  which 
shall  take  the  nation  by  storm.  If  such  a  re- 
action shall  come,  it  will  begin  in  the  home  and 
at  the  fireside.  The  home  talk  will  centre  not 
on  business  ventures  nor  on  domestic  savings 
so  much  as  on  larger  questions,  on  national  is- 
sues, on  national  probity,  on  national  pride.  Men 
will  be  no  longer  colorless  and  fluid  as  to  their 
political  preferences.  They  will  take  sides  and 
discuss  them  and  attend  primaries  and  give  their 
best  attention  to  the  nominations  and  the  cam- 
paigns, be  they  of  the  city,  the  country,  the  State, 
nation. 

ng  men  will  anticipate  with  eager  yearn- 
d  keen  zest  the  year  when  first  they  may 
Good  men  will   not   stand   aloof,   white- 
Pharisaic  mien,  from  the  polls. 
?^at  is  a  unit  in  its  desire  for  good 
^7^  its  love  for  the  country  and  its 
^current    history,    the    world-history 

[300] 


that  the  newspapers  daily  chronicle,  is  worth 
as  much  to  the  nation  at  large  as  a  battalion  of 
soldiers. 

Indifference  and  reluctance  should  not  set 
their  disfiguring  mark  on  the  character  of  our 
young  men.  As  they  emerge  annually  from 
colleges  and  high  schools,  as  they  enter  trade, 
commerce,  and  professional  activity,  they  should 
not  be  listless  in  their  attitude  toward  life. 
With  everything  that  the  finest  intellectual  train- 
ing can  give  its  coming  men,  with  bodies  splen- 
didly developed,  so  that  we  have  a  race  of  young 
athletes,  our  boys  should  not  shun  the  conflicts 
of  the  arena  where  opposing  parties  clash,  where 
righteousness  should  prevail  over  greed,  and 
honor  ennoble  the  nation. 

We  must  not  drift  into  pessimism  over  what 
may  be  a  transient  phase,  what  is  not  necessaril 
an  everlasting  condition.     The  life  of  a  sin 
generation  is  brief,  but  a  nation's  life  is  Ion 
Tliinking  of  historic  duration  one  comprehe 
the  meaning  of  the  Scriptural  text  that  with  G 
one  day  is  as  a  thousand  years,  and  a  thous 
years  as  one  day. 


"  In  the  beauty  of  the  lilies, 

Christ  was  born  across  the  sea 
With  a  glory  in  his  bosom  that 
transfigures  you  and  me." 

The  nation  will  never  lose  its  Sir  Galahads, 
who  will  not  falter  in  their  search  for  the  Holy 
Grail.  As  "  freedom  slowly  broadens  down, 
from  precedent  to  precedent,"  we  agree  more 
and  more  with  England's  greatest  laureate,  — 

"  That  man's  the  best  cosmopolite 
Who  loves  his  native  country  best." 

fot  only  should  we  cherish  the  sentiment  and 

courage  tji^/^pression  of  love  for  the  flag,  but 

little  ways  open  to  the  home  we 

^laim  and  glory  in  this  love.     A  flag. 

is   only   a   bit   of  bunting,    strips   of 

and    blue    stitched    together,    stars, 

)n  an  azure  field.     Fling  it  from 

let   it   wave   from   the  church. 

id  peak,  fort  and  fleet 

colors   on   occasion. 

havK  its  own  flag,  which 

sjvhen  we  celebrate  the 

anniversary,  which 


.should    droop   at   half  -  mast    when    our    heroes 
die. 

Mothers  should  teach  their  little  children  beau- 
tiful odes  and  hymns  and  songs  which  have  a 
patriotic  ring. 

There  are  seasons  when  the  nation,  profoundly 
stirred,  shakes  off  its  dumb  torpor,  wakes  from 
its  apathy,  and  knows  the  divine  enthusiasm  that 
only  love  of  country  kindles.  Should  a  foe  from 
the  outside  train  his  guns  against  our  great  sea- 
wall, what  thunder  of  indignation  would  roll 
from  Atlantic  to  Pacific,  what  tremendous  up- 
rising would  there  be,  of  men,  young  and  old, 
offering  themselves  for  the  nation's  defence. 
No  call  to  action  has  ever  found  Americans  dere- 
lict, from  the  hour  when  the  "  embattled  farm- 
ers "  of  Massachusetts  "  fired  the  shot  heard 
round  the  world."  to  the  latest  demand  to  "  Re: 
member  the  Maine."  Neither  money,  nor  volui 
teers,  nor  love  are  wanting  when  the  nation  thrill 
to  the  tocsin  that  summons  its  sons  to  a  gre« 
opportunity  and  a  valiant  fight.  We  are  aj 
thetic  in  the  commonplace  days  that  are  so  many< 
but  we  are  thoroughly  energetic  in  tperitical  hour.  > 

Not  so  long  ago,  our  martyr^  presiderit  Wj 

[303] 


'^ 


■  3^^- 


'^< 


(t<« 


^^sb*^ 


iam  McKinley,  true  patriot,  great  statesman, 
true  gentleman,  died  by  the  hand  of  an  assassin. 
The  foolish,  half-crazed  youth,  whose  bullet  laid 
low  one  who  was  the  flower  of  American 
knightly  manhood,  was  the  very  antithesis  of 
all  that  President  McKinley  represented.  As 
Lincoln  and  Garfield  before  him,  they,  too, 
martyrs  for  liberty  as  he  was,  McKinley  was 
the  son  of  a  plain  home,  a  man  brought  up 
precisely  as  the  rank  and  file  of  our  common 
people  are.  He  was  of  the  people.  Never  did 
rrtan  exemplify  more  nobly  than  he,  the  best 
traits  of  the  good  man  in  his  home,  tender  and 
chivalrous  to  an  invalid  wife  more  than  ordi- 
narily dependent  on  his  loving  thoughtfulness ; 
a  good  son,  a  good  brother,  a  good  friend,  a 
good  citizen.  As  his  lips,  damp  with  the  dews 
of  death,  repeated,  "  Not  my  will,  but  thine 
done,"  as  with  his  last  breath  he  murmured, 
fearer  my  God  to  Thee,"  a  wave  of  mingled 
rrow  and  patriotic  exultation  swept  over  the 
Every  village,  every  frontier  settlement, 
and  town  sang  "  Nearer,  my  God,  to 
le  day  of  McKinley's  obsequies. 
led,  and  in  his  death  he  revealed 

[304] 


^o  his  countrymen    the  height  and  splendor  of* 
true  manhood  and  true  patriotism. 

From  such  homes  as  nurtured  Wilham 
McKinley,  James  A.  Garfield,  and  Abraham 
Lincoln,  from  such  homes  as  have  given  us  our 
statesmen,  our  commanders,  our  scholars  and 
divines,  our  Phillips  Brooks  among  clergymen, 
our  Wendell  Phillips  among  orators,  our 
Whittier  and  Longfellow  among  poets,  from  such 
unostentatious,  frugal,  self-respecting  homes,  the 
nation's  hope  must  evermore  spring.  We  need 
not  fear  for  a  country  which  has  such  homes, 
and  in.  the  future  as  in  the  past,  for  her  it 
shall  be  true  that  "  Grod  fulfils  himself  in 
many  ways." 


[307] 


f 


not  hurried  too  soon 
of   childhood's   garden   of   dehght,    w 
tnose  about  him  keq)  the  child-heart  amic 
daily  burdens,  there  we  see  the  child's  ideal  home. 


[308] 


CHAPTER   XX. 


The  Ideal  Home  for  a  Child 


I  WONDER  what  our  grandmothers  would 
have  said  had  they  dreamed  that  a  day  was 
fast  hurrying  on,  in  which  children  should 
be  treated  as  if  they  were  crowned  heads,  and 
child-training  achieve  the  distinction  of  a  cult. 

The  swing  of  the  twentieth  century  pendu- 
lum has  reached  the  precise  opposite  of  all  that 
was  held  sacred  in  old-fashioned  tradition. 
"  Children  should  be  seen  and  not  heard."  Chil- 
dren should  be  often  reproved  and  judiciously 
snubbed.  Children  should  be  submissive  to  tu- 
tors and  governors.  They  had  no  rights  and  few 
privileges,  were  treated  with  austerity  and 
spoiled  by  overmuch  coddling  and  petting 
an  elder  day  than  ours.  In  spite  of  injustice 
severity,  they  seem  to  have  grown  up  into  fai 
respectable  men  and  women,  the  pity  being 
they  had  to  bear  so  much  that  was  unnecess^ 
Read  Rudyard  Kipling'' 
"The  Black  Sheep" 


"much  wretchedness  a  hard  and  unsympathetic 
woman  could  inflict  on  a  child,  without  per- 
manent injury  to  body  and  brain.  Read  the 
strangely  frank  narrative  which  Augustus  J.  C. 
Hare  has  called  "  The  Story  of  My  Life  "  to  dis- 
cover how  pitiless  and  cruel  good  people  could  be 
to  a  small  child  whom  they  persisted  in  thwarting 
at  every  turn,  true  to  their  mistaken  theory  that 
he  was  always  to  be  refused  whatever  he  de- 
?d.  "  Go  out  and  see  what  Jack  is  doing, 
Jd  tell  him  to  stop,"  was  the  comment  auto- 
itically  issued  in  the  early  nineteenth  centur}% 
I  nine  out  of  ten  households  where  they  were 
a  boy,  and  this  not  once,  but  a 
a  day. 
'no  means  sure  that  we  are  not  over- 
mother  direction  our  devotion  to  the 
jn  the  old  days  children  were  be- 
le  now.  Love  was  at  the  root  of 
^ed  on  idolatry  as  it 
igh  fashions  change, 
|entially  the  same  in 
len,  as  now,  was  love, 
and  they  will  not 
ifluence/'  The  greatest  thing 


■^^   V 


The  Ideal  Home  for  a  Child 


m  earth,  the  greatest  thing  in  heaven,  love  is 
the  redemption  of  the  world,  as  potential  in  the 
child's  life  as  in  that  of  the  grown  np  man  and 
woman. 

We  do  not  love  too  much  or  too  tenderly  now, 
but  we  do  set  the  child  too  visibly  and  too 
continually  in  the  foreground.  The  child  is  a 
bright  little  creature,  shrewd,  wide-awake.  Very 
early  in  life  the  child  learns  that  its  faintest  wish 
is  as  the  nod  of  a  king.  Darling  little  tyrants 
they  may  be,  but  tyrants  there  are  in  homes 
without  number,  where  they  are  not  only  first 
in  affection,  but  first  considered,  first  thought  of, 
first  consulted;  their  preferences  as  to  food,  as  to 
playtime,  as  to  clothing,  as  to  the  church  or 
Sunday  school  they  elect  to  attend,  sedulously 
studied,  and  indulged  even  at  inconvenience  on 
the  part  of  the  parents. 

Child-culture  clubs  are  not  to  bear  the  blar 
for  this  state  of  things.     Eager  groups  of  co; 
scientious  mothers,  meeting  weekly  and  produf 
ing   with   puckered   brow   their   reports   of  w« 
Jane  and  wee  Tommy,  comparing  notes  over  in- 
fantile  squabbles,    do  evolve   frgjrj^^^^  pains- 
taking processes   some  beneficiMljesuIti 

[311] 


The  Little  Kingdo7n  of  Home 


c^ 


fl 


hlldren  of  to-day  are  well-fed,  well-shod,  well- 
housed,  and  from  kindergarten  to  college  are 
carefully  put  through  the  successive  stages  of  an 
elaborate  education.  Each  child  is,  so  to  speak, 
classified,  and  pinned,  and  labelled,  and  fastened, 
where  he  or  she  belongs.  Mothers  meet  in  con- 
ventions and  congresses,  and  famous  pedagogues 
and  apostles  of  the  latest  philanthropy  and 
teachers  of  great  distinction  lecture  in  their 
presence. 

I  once  attended  a  Mothers'  Congress  and 
listened  with  a  notable  company  of  representative 
mothers  to  discourses  grave  and  gay,  profound 
and  shallow ;  nothing  in  the  legitimate  field  of 
maternal  care  was  slurred  over  or  ignored.  A 
specially  admirable  address  from  an  eminent 
physician,  an  authority  on  the  subject,  had  to  do 
with    the    proper    method    of    feeding   children. 

le,    wholesome    food    was    recommended. 

ts  and  bonbons  were  altogether  condemned. 

efore  me  sat  a  mother,  young,  soulful,  en- 

siastic,  who  listened  with  rapt  attention  and 

ed    aDOroval,    and    looked    about    her    for 

he  warmly  applauded  at  the  end. 

Aib-Mu^;fttei>'she  hurried  breathlessly  into  the 

[312] 


The  Ideal  Home  for  a  Child 


•  ^rain  where  I  sat,  explaining  volubly  that  the 
reason  she  so  nearly  missed  it  was  that  she  did 
not  dare  to  go  home  without  candy  for  the  chil- 
dren. She  had  a  liberal  supply  of  it  in  her 
hands. 

The  ideal  home  for  a  child  is  a  home  where 
the  child  has  room  to  develop  naturally.  It 
is  a  home  that  does  not  bristle  with  don'ts.  A 
mother  was  appalled  one  day  when  a  visiting 
sister  said,  "  I  have  jotted  down  the  don'ts  you 
have  uttered  to  Emily  to-day.  You  have  said, 
'  Don't  do  that,  Emily '  eighty  times  since 
breakfast."  Never  is  a  home  ideal  when  so  full 
of  ornamental  bric-a-brac  and  fragile  chairs  and 
tables,  and  delicate  china  and  costly  furniture 
that  childish  freedom  therein  is  forever  being 
curtailed,  restrained,  and   restricted. 

If  possible,  the  child's  ideal  home  should 
in   the   country.      Out-of-doors    in   the   air    a 
sunlight,  with  stout  shoes,  with  simple  clothin 
with  plenty  of  space,  children  grow  rosy-chee 
and   sturdy.      A   brook   where   he   may   fish, 
meadow  where  he  may  dream,  a  tree  into  wh^ 
he  may  climb,  furnishes  for  the  healthy  Chilean 
earthly  paradise. 


A  park  is  a  quotation  from  the  country  and 
affords  to  city  children  their  best  substitute 
for  country  freedom.  Unhappily  the  ubiquitous 
bluecoated  policeman  is  apt  to  be  on  the  spot  when 
they  are  happiest,  warning-  them  away  from  the 
grass,  as  though  it  were  not  meant  for  children's 
feet  to  touch,  warning  them  from  this  and  the 
other  delight,  so  that  a  city  park  is  an  Eden 
watched  over  by  a  sort  of  dragon  of  forbidding 
I. 

''hen  children  have  no  playground  except  the 

[vement  near   their   own   home,   they   are  not 

illy  situated  for  pleasure  or  health.     Exercise 

exercise  pleasing  to  the  mind  as 

rblesome  for  the  body,  is  a  requisite 

le  to  happy  childhood. 

il  home  for  the  child  is  one  where  his 

jithin  call.     Therefore,  children  who 

[s  only  now  and  then,  as  some- 

with  the  children  of  wealth  and 

teachers  are  ever  so 

recious  things. 

helps  mother,  where 

and  basins,  and  little 

'al.    Dearly  do  chil- 


"dren  enjoy  being  in  the  midst  of  things  and  being 
of  use. 

Among  recent  writers,  none  excels  J.  M.  Barrie 
in  a  sympathetic  insight,  which  reveals  the  inner 
heart  and  life  of  childhood.  Grizel,  the  little 
heroine  in  "  Sentimental  Tommy,"  had  anything 
but  an  ideal  home,  yet  the  apology  for  a  home 
that  she  had,  gave  her  what  many  children  lack, 
the  chance  to  develop  the  mother-instinct  that 
lies  hidden  deep  in  the  soul  of  every  young  girl. 
She  watched  over  her  poor  mother  "  The  Painted 
Lady,"  with  more  than  maternal  tenderness  and 
with  a  sweetness  that  was  half  angelic,  half  pure 
womanly. 

The  child's  home,  to  be  ideal,  must  have  in  it 
some  grown  person  who  is  companion,  confidante, 
and  friend,  but  who  possesses  no  vested  authority. 
This  person  may  be  a  grandmother,  may  be  ai 
aunt,  or  merely  a  family  friend.  The  fact 
detachment  from  the  family,  so  that  she  com< 
and  goes,  appears  and  disappears  and  reappeai 
at  intervals,  is  interesting  to  the  child. 

I  remember  a  certain  lady,  who,  as  my  mother's* 
intimate  friend,  often  spent  lo^t^jfifi^f:.  at 
home  when  I  was  a  child  of  nn 

[315] 


The  Little  Kingdom  of  Home 


"she  was  a  woman  with  no  immediate  ties.  She" 
had  prim  ways,  wore  her  hair  in  waves,  had 
dainty  clothes,  mostly  of  dove  color;  I  recall  a 
changeable  silk  the  color  of  a  dove's  wing.  Our 
friend  made  wonderful  pincushions  and  needle- 
books,  knew  how  to  knit  and  embroider,  and 
when  she  was  with  us,  kept  the  house  merry 
with  her  gay  repartees  and  droll  stories.  We 
children  gleefully  shouted  when  she  came,  and 
cried  when  she  went  away.  She  had  a  funny 
little  mincing  step  and  walked  as  if  she  were 
a  mechanical  toy  just  wound  up.  But  among  the 
memories  of  my  own  ideally  serene  childhood's 
home,  her  figure  looms  up,  still  dear.  Shall  I 
know  her,  when  next  we  meet,  on  the  shore  of 
the  crystal  river  in  the  home  where  they  go  no 
more  out? 

There  are  rules  in  the  child's  ideal  home,  but 

are  few,  and  sensible,  and  easily  understood. 

re  are  lessons  in  it,  and  duties,  and  things 

lo.     The  child  in  it  is  fearless  and  frank.     He 

never  been  cowed  and  oppressed  by  arbitrary 

despotic  control ;    he  has  been  treated  as  if 

^l^e  to  be  right  and  brave,  as  indeed, 

)JT^has. 

[3  "6] 


The  Ideal  Home  for  a  Child 


It  can  hardly  be  ideal  if  in  it  there  are  no 
playmates.  One  advantage  our  grandparents  had 
that  our  children  rarely  have.  They  were  mem- 
bers of  large  families.  Ten,  twelve,  and  four- 
teen children  were  common  in  the  old  days. 
Read  any  genealogy  of  a  Puritan  or  Cavalier 
family,  and  observe  how  exceptional  was  a  small 
family.  A  boisterous,  clamorous,  mirthful, 
cheerful  family  of  a  round  dozen  made  life  inter- 
esting for  every  one.  Our  one  child,  or  our 
two  or  three  children  in  the  modern  American 
home,  may  suffer  from  a  lack  of  suitable  play- 
mates. It  is  not  good  for  a  child  to  be  solitary. 
If  there  are  no  other  playmates  near,  go  out  into 
the  highways  and  hedges  and  compel  the  poor 
children  to  come  in.  They  wiM  often  be  found 
quite  free  from  glaring  faults,  and  not  in  the 
least  objectionable. 

Children  should  have  live  pets  as  well  as  to 
and  puppets.     The  friendly  dog,  comrade,  plai^ 
mate,  and  chum,  is  an  inseparable  part  of 
little  master's  life,  once  the  boy  has  known  th" 
joy  of  owning  him.     To  refrain  from  cruelty 
animals  is  the  lowest  step  in  the   scale  of 
finement  and  humanity. 


something  of  the  goodness  that  springs  frot 
genuine  love  and  understanding  of  domestic' 
animals.  A  dog  for  the  frohc  and  the  road,  a 
cat  for  the  fireside,  other  pets  if  possible,  and 
the  home  approaches  more  nearly  to  complete- 
ness than  without  these  pleasant  companions. 
Those  to  whom  a  dog  is  merely  a  dog,  and  a 
cat  only  a  cat,  who  look  upon  a  horse  as  a  creature 
to  draw  carts  and  carry  burdens,  have  never  en- 
tered into  the  mysteries  and  the  joys  that  come 
)m  sharing  one's  cup  and  loaf  with  our  animal 
riends. 
A  little  garden  is  an  adjunct  to  the  child's 
>me;  that  i^  if  it  be  his,  and  if  he  may  plant, 
,  and  work  in  it,  having  flowers  as 
In  the  narrow  borders  around  a 
which  make  gardens  for  citizens,  there 
ch  room  for  a  child's  pleasure,  yet  a 
may  be  spared  where  pansies  and 
in  their  season.  I  have  seen  a 
eed  over  a  window-box  gar- 
do  with  as  he  pleased. 

e  child  invites,  as  he 

His  mother  docs  not 

ittle  dirt.     His  room 


^s  his  castle  where  he  entertains  his  guests,  often 
with  a  picnic  hmcheon  of  biscuits  or  cookies,  that 
have  a  more  deHcate  taste  than  viands  served  at 
the  epicure's  table. 

Here  let  me  say  that  the  normal  child  is 
always  hungry,  and  that  while  theoretically  food 
should  not  be  taken  between  meals,  practically, 
the  boy  or  girl  who  comes  in  half-famished  from 
school  should  have  the  freedom  of  pantry  and 
bin,  to  a  reasonable  extent.  A  stone  crock  filled 
with  fragrant  doughnuts,  a  jar  of  spice  cakes  or 
cookies,  a  barrel  of  apples,  leave  to  feast  without 
asking,  then  a  romp  out-of-doors  and  liberty  to 
stay  there  till  supper-time,  and  the  child  thus 
provided  for  will  lead  an  ideal  life. 


[32i] 


l-c^^ 


^  C  AVIOR  who  the  flock  art  feeding4 
With  the  shepherd's  kindest  care, 
All  the  feeble  gently  leading, 

While  the  lambs  thy  bosom  share, 
Never  from  thy  pasture  roving 
Let  them  be  the  lion's  prey. 
Let  thy  tenderness  so  loving 

Keep  them  all  life's  dangerous  way.** 


[322] 


CHAPTER  XXI. 


Early  Religious  Teaching 


<< 


W 


HEN  shall  I  begin  to  tell  my  little 
child  about  God?    When  shall  I  let 
her  know  that  there  is  a  spiritual 
life?" 

The  question  is  repeated  in  one  form  or  another 
by  anxious  mothers,  longing  to  do  right,  yet 
hesitating  to  unveil  before  their  children's  eyes 
what  seem  to  them  the  incomprehensible  mys- 
teries. 

The  trend  of  your  child's  life  God-ward,  dear 
mother,  should  begin  before  its  birth,  in  the 
sacred  time  when  you  are  in  sanctuary,  awaiting^ 
the  babe's  first  inarticulate  movement  bene^ 
your  heart.  During  the  beautiful  months 
pregnancy,  when  maternity  invests  you  with 
culiar  dignity,  you  should  reverently  keep 
soul  in  touch  with  the  divine,  with  the  infii 
When  the  babe  is  in  your  arms,  the  atmosphe 
around  it  should  be  fragrant^^jj^^tr^fue  pi( 
Your  faith,  a  vital  reality,  wil 

[323: 


-communicated  to  your  child  with  the  nourishment  -^ 
it  draws  from  your  breast. 

Long  before  a  child  can  speak,  in  the  earliest 
delicate  unfolding  of  its  being,  a  mother  should 
pray  over  its  cradle.  Soon  she  miay  clasp 
the  tiny  hands  and  repeat  a  prayer  as  she 
does  so.  As  the  baby  life  with  amazing,  al- 
most incredible,  rapidity  assumes  new  forms 
and  phases,  with  the  first  step,  the  first  speech, 
the  first  assertion  of  individuality  should  come 
the  first  prayer.  There  are  no  lovelier  forms 
at  first  than  the  time-honored  petitions  for 
night  and  morning : 


Now  I  lay  me  down  to  sleep, 
I  pray  the  Lord  my  soul  to  keep ; 
If  I  should  die  before  I  wake, 
I  pray  the  Lord  my  soul  to  take." 

"  Now  I  wake  and  see  the  light, 
'Tis  God  has  kept  me  through  the  night. 
To  Him  I  lift  my  voice  and  pray 
That  He  will  keep  me  through  the  day." 


onclude    both    these,    and    every 
ith  the  words,  "  For  Jesus'  sake, 

[324] 


"  Our  Father  who  art  in  heaven "  is  to  l>e 
taught  the  child  a  Httle  later,  and  then  the  Ten 
Commandments,  the  Apostles'  Creed,  the  Beati- 
tudes, and  some  of  the  tender  and  majestic  psalms 
of  David  may  be  learned,  verse  by  verse,  until  the 
child  knows  them  by  heart.  In  every  Scottish 
nursery,  the  little  ones  learn  the  metrical  version 
of  the  Twenty-third  Psalm,  almost,  but  not  quite, 
as  beautiful  as  it  is  in  the  Bible  itself.    This  is  it : 


"The  Lord's  my  Shepherd      I'll  not  want. 
He  makes  me  down  to  lie 
In  pastures  green ;   He  leadeth  me 
The  quiet  waters  by. 
My  soul  He  doth  restore  again 
And  me  to  walk  doth  make 
Within  the  paths  of  righteousness 
E'en  for  His  own  name's  sake. 

"  Yea,  though  I  walk  in  death's  dark  vale, 
Yet  will  I  fear  no  ill ; 
For  Thou  art  with  me ;  and  Thy  rod 
And  staff  me  comfort  still. 
My  table  Thou  hast  furnished 
In  presence  of  my  foes, 
My  head  Thou  dos^jyith  oil  anoint, 
And  my  cup  over 


"  Goodness  and  mercy  all  my  life 
Shall  surely  follow  me  ; 
And  in  God's  house  forevermore 
My  dwelling-place  shall  be." 

A  custom  in  devout  households  is  to  let  the 
youngest  child  often  say  grace  at  the  table.  Any 
child  in  the  home  should  be  ready  to  ask  the 
blessing  if  requested  to  do  so,  and  the  daily  bread 
should  thus  be  directly  connected  in  the  child's 
)ught  with  Him  who  gives  it  as  His  children 
id  to  be  supplied. 

Father  in  heaven  is  so  loving,  so  gracious, 

:ompassionate,  the  Elder  Brother  is  so  ready  to 

lid  we  not  let  our  dear  children 

into  the  thought  of  God,  not 

I'who  beholds  them  in  wrath,  and  who 

[to  punish  them,  but  as  One  who  has 

^with  an  everlasting  love. 

Bays   Phillips    Brooks,    "  becomes 

le  understands  what  it  is  to  love 

irist.      *  I   know   that 

train  me,'  the  good 

isciousness  makes  the 

Christlike." 

to  come  unto  me, 


and  forbid  them  not,"  said  the  Saviour,  "  for  of 
such  is  the  kingdom  of  heaven." 

Many  of  us  think  that  as  the  child  of  a  king  is 
by  right  of  his  royal  birth  a  prince  from  the 
beginning,  so  every  little  child  born  into  a  Chris- 
tian home,  consecrated  from  the  cradle,  is  by 
right  of  birth  a  Christian  child.  A  little  child 
of  God !  While  still  very  young,  it  is  this  child's 
right  to  be  admitted  to  the  close  care  and  guard- 
ianship of  the  Church,  and  received  into  its 
communion. 

Mothers  should  not  only  pray  for  their  children, 
but  at  times  should  pray  with  them.  Prayer 
should  be  as  simple  and  direct  as  talk  with  a  friend 
who  is  waiting  to  bless  by  a  swift  answer,  and 
who  never  turns  any  one  empty  away. 

Familiarity  with  that  well  of  pure  and  noble 
English,  the  Bible,  cannot  be  attained  perfect] 
after  the  golden  age  of  childhood  has  passed 
In  a  home  where  family  prayers  are  daily  cc 
ducted,  the  children  hear  large  portions  of  Gc 
Word,  and  acquire  texts  and  phrases,  and 
to  their  stock  of  language  beautiful  and  fitting 
quaint  and  poetical,  rich  and 
they  can  in  no  other  way  evel 

[327] 


The  Little  Kingdom  of  Home 


V' 


■  authors  as  Shakespeare,  Dickens,  Thackeray,, 
Carlyle,  and  other  masters  in  the  past,  show  a 
knowledge  of  the  Bible,  and  a  facility  in  using  it, 
that  could  only  be  the  result  of  early  reading  and 
study.  John  Bunyan  was  saturated  with  the 
Bible,  and  it  is  the  color  of  that  inspired  book 
which  has  made  immortal  his  radiant  "  Pilgrim's 
Progress."  John  Ruskin,  whose  style  in  "  Modern 
Painters,"  "  Sesame  and  Lilies,"  "  Stones  of 
Venice,"  and  other  most  suggestive  and  satisfy- 
ing books,  is  the  delight  of  the  cultured  reader, 
as  a  child  was  drilled  in  the  Bible,  reading  it  over 
and  over  at  his  mother's  knee,  and  memorizing 
many  chapters.  Frederick  W.  Robertson,  whose 
influence  over  two  generations  of  English-speak- 
ing people  has  been  profound,  knew  the  whole 
New  Testament  by  heart.  Rudyard  Kipling,  the 
most  interesting  and  virile  among  our  living  men 
[etters,  so  knows  the  Bible  that  allusions  drawn 
it  crop  up  in  almost  every  page, 
lat  the  early  religious  training  of  children  in 
home  is  now  neglected  cannot  be  denied, 
students  as  a  mass  have  but  slight 
a^^ith  it  as  literature,  and  but  slight 
ll'it^binding  authority.     The  epidemic 

[328] 


of  crime  and  the  wide-spread  corruption  which 
the  newspapers  chronicle;  and  which  is  generally- 
deplored,  may  be  traced  to  a  decline  in  the  old 
fear  of  God  which  made  men  straightforward, 
and  kept  them  honest  and  clean.  If  again  the 
home  shall  instil  in  its  little  children  a  love  for  the 
Bible,  and  a  reverence  for  its  precepts,  society 
will  draw  a  deeper  breath  of  security,  and  our 
penitentiaries  will  not  be  recruited  from  what  we 
call  the  better  classes. 

The  Bible  is  a  big,  beautiful  story-book,  and 
children  never  tire  of  hearing  the  stories  of  the 
Garden  of  Eden,  of  Enoch,  who  walked  with 
God,  "  walked  so  far  one  day,"  said  a  child  "  that 
he  went  into  God's  house,  and  stayed  there," 
of  Noah,  Samuel,  Samson,  David,  Daniel,  the 
Children  in  the  Fiery  Furnace,  of  Ruth  and 
Esther,  of  Vashti,  of  Mary  the  mother  of  Jesus 
and  of  Jesus  Himself. 

Sunday  evening  should  be  for  a  child  a  ve 
happy  time,  when  there  may  be  singing  and  st 
telling,  beautiful  story-telling  from  the  Book 
God. 

That  which  is  implanted  in  the  mind  w 
is  most  receptive,  most  p!Skic, -ajfeeo  it  i 


receive  and  marble  to  retain,"  is  never  lost.     To. 
old  ag-e,  the  mind  treasures  the  truths  taught  in 
early  childhood. 

As  we  do  not  leave  to  the  careless  option  of 
childhood  the  education  in  other  directions,  which 
it  must  have  to  be  ready  for  the  future,  as, 
whether  or  not  it  enjoys  school,  to  school  it  is 
sent,  as  arithmetic  and  grammar  are  made  obliga- 
tory so,  equally,  with  a  sense  of  duty  to  the 
Ringer  life,  we  should  early  impart  religious 
lowledge.  The  first  seven  years  tinge  the  entire 
fe.  On  the  white  page  of  babyhood  write  what 
and  mother  have  the  first  chance, 
'unbelief  or  heedlessness  away  from 
to  train  your  little  one  for 
''ou  may  so  mould  him,  that  no  later 
tan  undo  your  work.  "  My  mother," 
lent  minister  of  the  Gospel,  "  brought 
icdom,  one  by  one,  a  large  family, 
fidelity  andjier  example." 

to  obtain  an  instant's 
ightenment  is  that  re- 
to  teach  a  child  any- 
is  to  cloud  his  mom- 
ness.     From  those 


•who  have  entered  into  and  dwelt  in  the  sweet, 
pure  sunHght  of  God's  love,  no  such  folly  can 
come.  It  is  the  impression  only  of  those  who 
stand  outside. 

Others  fancy  that  good  morals,  and  good  man- 
ners, and  amiable  traits  may  be  inculcated  and 
fostered,  while  religious  training  is  omitted. 
There  are  homes  where  families  love  one  another 
and  do  not  seek  to  please  God,  it  is  true,  but 
they  are  homes  of  ingratitude,  and  they  cannot 
hope  that  their  contentment  and  gladness  will 
be  permanent.  When  the  storm  of  sorrow  breaks, 
on  whom  shall  they  call? 

In  the  Christian  training  of  a  little  child,  re- 
spect and  love  for  the  Sabbath  should  have  a 
large  share.  But  the  best  day  of  the  week  should 
not  be  forbidding  in  its  aspect,  nor  hedged  about 
\vith,  "  Thou  shalt  not."  "  Remember  the 
Sabbath  day  to  keep  it  holy,"  is  the  never  repeak 
commandment  of  God.  If  holy,  it  must  be  hapi 
Of  course,  little  people  cannot  sit  the  livelong  dj 
straight  up  in  their  chairs,  and  keep  perfect 
still ;  they  must  play.  Tlie  lambs  play  and  the 
birds  sing  on  Sunday  as  on  otheY^ 
little  girl  should  not  be  oblige3^^ 

[331] 


The  Little  Kingdom  of  Home 


doll,  any  more  than  the  mother  should  lock  up 
her  baby,  because  God  has  sent  his  beautiful  day 
of  rest.  The  doll  to  the  little  child  is  her  baby. 
She  may  be  taught  to  play  less  riotously  than  on 
other  days,  and  her  enjoyment  may  be  quieter. 
A  mother  who  cares  to  make  the  Sabbath  pleasant 
may  have  a  store  of  Sunday  playthings,  or  boxes 
of  blocks,  put  away  through  the  week  and  brought 
out  only  on  the  Sabbath. 

Early  in  childhood  the  habit  of  church-going 
must  be  established,  if  it  is  to  be  the  dominant 
habit  of  the  life.  Little  heads  in  the  pew  are 
like  flowers  in  the  field ;  and  though  the  children 
do  not  comprehend  all  that  is  said,  they  do  very 
heartily  enjoy  being  in  the  congregation,  sitting 
with  grown  people,  and  taking  part  in  a  cere- 
monial of  which  the  music,  the  responses,  the 
prayers,  and  even  the  sermon  are  impressive  to 
them.  What  if  a  drowsy  fair-haired  child  falls 
asleep  in  the  arc  of  a  father's  arm,  or  another 
makes  pictures  on  a  pad  with  a  pencil?  The 
chief  thing  is  that  the  home  has  brought  its 
x^si  cys^^-^p  the  church,  and  the  children  are 
earnln^r.^fe^'a^iarship  God,  and  they  are  with  Him, 
^lace. 

[332] 


"  The  light  of  the  Indian  summer 
Fell  soft  on  bright  Broadway, 
Where  the  ebb  and  flow  of  commerce 
Throbbed  swift  and  strong  all  day ; 
And  men  with  anxious  thoughts  oppressed 
Passed  on  the  crowded  way. 

"  In  the  surging  throngs  were  people 
With  weary,  care-dimmed  eyes, 

Who  had  half  forgotten  the  story 
Of  a  heavenly  Paradise  — 

And,  bent  with  earthly  burdens,  walked 
Unconscious  of  the  skies  : 

"  Ah  !  music  softly  pealing 

Through  that  sun-sifted  air, 
Your  strains  brought  gifts  of  healing 

To  many  a  heartache  there ; 
And  men  a  moment  stopped  to  praise. 

Who  had  no  time  for  prayer." 


[335] 


[336] 


CHAPTER   XXII. 


The  Library 


THANKS  to  the  enormous  increase  of 
our  population  and  the  commensurate 
multiphcation  of  schools,  a  vast  deal  of 
attention  has  recently  been  given  to  the  endow- 
ment and  maintenance  of  libraries  in  America. 
There  is  hardly  a  village  cross-roads  that  has  not 
its  small  lending  library  accessible  to  the  people 
for  miles  around,  on  the  payment  of  a  moderate 
fee.  In  the  large  cities,  libraries  spring  up  every- 
where, so  that  it  is  possible  for  the  poorest,  who 
desires  to  be  in  touch  with  the  great  minds  of  all 
ages,  to  attain  his  end  at  the  cost  of  a  little  per- 
sonal trouble. 

Notwithstanding  the  fact  that  the  best  bof 
are  thus  within  the  reach  of  the  reading 
each  home  should  possess  on  its  own  accour 
library  as  a  permanent  part  of  the  home  oi^ 
fit.     Books  stamp  the  home  with  a  fine  charac 

A  dear  old  woman,  hViner  all  by  herself^  a 
New   England   hamlet, 


The  Little  Kingdom  of  Home 


B 

which  her  husband  and  children  had  gone  on  tq^J 
the  better  land,  showed  me  with  pride,  one  day,  a 
superb  encyclopaedia  in  many  volumes,  which  she 
had  lately  purchased.  As  she  was  not  partic- 
ularly devoted  to  reading  and  study,  her  own 
choice  in  literature  being  somewhat  limited  and 
almost  confined  to  the  Bible,  the  cook-book,  and 
her  weekly  church  paper,  I  expressed  some  sur- 
prise at  the  outlay. 

"  Oh,"  she  eagerly  said,  "  this  is  a  good  in- 

istment.     Here  is  something  about  everything 

has  ever  happened  since  the  world  began. 

There   are  pages   in   these  books   about   all   the 

historical  ev^ts,  from  Adam  down,  the  battles 

\t^  of  the  world,  the  crowned  heads  of 

le  palaces  of  Asia,  the  great  inventions 

^veries,  and  indeed  everything  one  can 

^to  know  about.     I  have  a  great  many 

people,-  nieces  and  nephews  and  cousins, 

rfe  in  the  summer  and  whose  friends 

I  ha\(^oticed  that  they  seem  to  read 

I   have   bought   these 

th^pr^y  5^  educational   for  them. 

tn  I  die,^JJ^^s€riesvwill  be  something  for  me 


The  unselfishness  of  her  position  deeply  11"-/^^ 
pressed  me,  and,  as  I  thought  of  it,  I  felt  that  ^ 
she  had  builded  better  than  she  knew.     She  had 
started   for  some   fortunate   legatee  the  nucleus 
of  a  valuable  reference  librai'y. 

In  the  household  collection  of  books,  whatever 
else  there  be,  an  encyclopaedia  of  some  sort,  a 
standard  dictionary,  a  dictionary  of  dates,  and  a 
good  atlas  must  be  included.  With  this  as  a 
foundation,  the  edifice  of  culture  will  surely  rise 
stone  upon  stone. 

Dividing   books    into    three    classes,    we  may 
regard  them  as  our  servants,  our  masters,  and 
our  friends.     In  the  first  division,  we  place  such 
books  as   the  New   England  gentlewoman   pur- 
chased,   books    which    in    comparatively    small 
compass  carefully  condense  the  facts  that  every 
one,   lettered   or   unlettered,   at   times   needs   tp^^ 
know.     When  a  question  is  brought  up,  at 
table  or  in  a  group  of  people,  to  which  an  e: 
answer  should  be  rendered,   it  is  well  to 
at  hand  an  authority  to  consult,  immediately, 
fore  the  interest  wanes.      A  little  pains  thei 
sure  to  be  well  repaid.     Few  volumes  are  better, 
reading  than  a  good  English^g^^^^It  gi) 

[339I 


rO: 


v^i 


The  Little  Kingdom  of  Home 


not  only  correct  spelling  and  pronunciation,  but^ 
often  cites  tlie  history  of  a  word  from  its  deriva- 
tion to  present-day  usage,  with  examples  of  the 
manner  in  which  authors  of  distinction  have  em- 
ployed it.  Though  not  consecutive,  the  dictionary 
is  fascinating. 

Our  duty  to  our  mother  tongue,  too  often 
neglected,  requires  of  us  a  nice  and  exact  use  of 
words.  One  should  always  try  to  find  the  pre- 
cise word  to  represent  an  idea,  and  should  not 
be  contented  with  any  other.  In  "  Sentimental 
Tommy,"  Mr.  Barrie  shows  the  difference  be- 
tween the  mere  prig  and  pedant  and  the  scholar, 
when  he  paints  for  us  his  gifted  little  hero,  wait- 
ing almost  a  whole  morning  to  secure  the  word 
which  precisely  expressed  his  meaning.  Care- 
ful study  of  the  dictionary  greatly  helps  an  ele- 
gant use  of  words.  It  is  the  scientific  method  of 
ling,  proceeding  from  the  root  to  the  flower, 
magnificent  English  language  is  a  composite 
picture  to  which  many  other  languages  have 
itributed.  The  stately,  sonorous  Latin,  the 
Hifluous  Greek,  the  terse  and  pithy  Saxon,  the 
the  sturdy  German,  the  subtle 
all  done  their  share  to  make  our 

[340] 


language  rich,  copious,  and  flexible.  To  debase 
it  through  ignorance,  to  fall  into  slipshod  ways  of 
si^eech  and  writing,  to  drop  heedlessly  into  slang 
when  a  fine  and  fitting  phrase  is  within  reach, 
are  shameful  sins  against  our  mother  tongue. 
In  the  home  where  recourse  is  often  had  to  the 
sources  of  approved  English,  these  transgressions 
will  be  few. 

Among  the  books  which  we  may  denominate 
masters,  are  those  which  at  some  period  or  other 
have  marked  a  crisis  in  our  spiritual  or  intellec- 
tual life,  unfolding  to  us  new  vistas  of  thought, 
and  arousing  us  to  greater  energy  in  some  noble 
realm  of  action.  The  great  masterpieces  of 
the  world  take  precedence  of  others  in  this  divi- 
sion. As  the  springs  of  literature  flow  from  their 
fount,  we  go  back  seeking  the  source,  and  find 
it  in  the  Bible,  in  the  noble  epic  of  Job,  in  th( 
Psalms,  and  the  grand  prophecies  of  Isaial 
Ezekiel,  Jeremiah,  Hosea,  and  other  bards  an 
seers.  We  find  Homer  and  Virgil  and  Plal 
forever  young.  Whoever  to-day  shall  read 
the  wanderings  of  Ulysses  will  be  continually  i 
pressed  with  the  wonder^iil  chan 
and  brightness  not  onlyi ' 


-Qrign 


/} 


'from  time  to  time  will  find,  with  a  sense  of  sur- 
prise, something  that  indicates  the  deepest  ac- 
quaintance with  human  nature.  The  ancient 
and  the  modem  point  of  view  are  not  so  very 
dissimilar.  Dante,  Milton,  Shakespeare,  the  lofty 
ones  whom  we  regard  with  reason  as  our  masters, 
have  led  us  by  various  paths,  and  have  wonder- 
fully enriched  and  enlarged  our  conception  of 
life.  In  this  catalogue  we  include  Goethe  and 
jhiller,  and,  coming  down  to  later  days,  we 
other  names,  Carlyle,  Emerson,  Long- 
yiow,  Whittier,  whose  hands  have  clasped  ours 
I  the  teacher's  grasp,  and  who  have  profoundly 
irred  arj^^lped  us. 

ieyf  moods  and  at  some  times  we  need  to 

one  compelling  influence.     Only  the 

ive  minds  command,  control  and  sway. 

reat  books  are  our  friends  for  all  time. 

household  words,  and  we  feel  as 

rstrolled_with^eir  authors  on  many  a 

)liday.^^hey  ate  our  intimates,  our 

companionable  as  a 

f  books.     You  come 

t-of-doors,    or    from 


-business,  cold,  wet,  weary,  and  not  keyed  up  to 
conversation  witli  your  nearest  and  dearest. 
Probably  you  are  cross.  You  take  your  seat  in 
a  room  where  there  are  books  on  the  shelf  and 
the  table,  and  their  mute  companionship  offers 
you  a  sense  of  repose  and  refreshment,  though 
you  may  not  so  much  as  take  one  in  your  hand. 
The  prominent  function  of  the  book  is  of  course 
to  be  read,  but  this  is  far  from  being  a  book's 
only  use.  One  loves,  if  a  book-lover,  to  see  the 
books  about,  to  sit  where  they  are,  to  feel  that  one 
may  pass  a  caressing  touch  over  their  bindings, 
to  enjoy  the  pleasant  fellowship  they  bring.  I 
do  not  like  books  locked  up  like  prisoners  of 
state,  and  barred  from  the  general  handling  of 
the  family.  If  they  are  to  be  kept  under  glass, 
there  are  charming  bookcases  which  swing  back  ^^^^ 
at  a  touch,  allowing  you  to  keep  your  treasure^ 
free  from  dust,  and  yet  to  get  at  them  withov 
turning  a  key  in  the  lock. 

Where  it  is  possible,  the  bulk  of  the  books  tl 
belong  to  the  family  should  be  massed  in  a  sinj 
room,  which  may  properly  be  the  sitting-room  o\ 
the  house.     They  need  not  be^^^k^^^^lusivel)^^ 
there,  for  every  room  should 

[343] 


id  the  different  members  of  the  family  in  their 
own  rooms  should  be  allowed  to  keep  literature 
which  has  on  them  a  personal  claim.  No  room 
without  a  book! 

The  singular  notion  obtains  that  it  is  some- 
what extravagant  to  purchase  books.  This  is  not 
well  founded.  Nothing  else  is  so  cheap  as  a  good 
book.  It  is  not  easily  worn  out;  it  takes  rank 
with  the  valuable  possessions  of  a  house,  such  as 
jewels,  curios,  and  fine  furniture ;  it  is  not  for  one 
day,  but  for  all  seasons  and  all  weather,  and  it 
relatively  costs  less  than  shoes,  stuffs  or  wearing 
apparel,  bread  and  meat. 

In  the  purchase  of  books,  care  should  be  taken 
that  money  be  expended,  not  for  purely  ephemeral 
volumes,  but  for  those  that  shall  be  a  house- 
hold joy  for  years  and  lifetimes. 

As  a  gift  for  a  wedding  or  a  birthday,  or  a 

parent   or   child   at   any   time,    nothing   is 

suitable  than  a  book.     It  may  be  of  poetry, 

or  fiction,  or  some  beautiful  art  volume 

lished  with  pictures  and  illustrations,  which 

would  have  been  out  of  the  reach 

nobleman,    but   which    now   the 

^''wi^.     Artists  and  authors  to-day 

[344] 


^ork  side  by  side  and  hand  in  hand  to  make 
books  beautiful,  and  bindings  are  a  dream  of 
delight. 

When  one  looks  back  to  the  middle  ages  and 
thinks  of  the  cloistered  student  who  bent  patiently 
month  after  month  and  year  after  year,  slowly 
writing  by  hand  the  few  books  that  were 
then  accessible  to  the  few  readers  of  the  world, 
and  then  considers  how  the  art  of  printing  has 
multiplied  many  fold  the  literary  output  of  the 
globe,  one  is  grateful  to  be  living  in  the  twen- 
tieth century.  To-day,  the  farmhouse  in  North 
Dakota,  the  ranch  in  California,  the  cottage  on 
the  New  England  mountainside,  may  possess,  not 
as  a  luxury,  but  as  a  matter  of  course,  such  gems 
of  art  and  treasures  of  learning  as  no  sovereign 
in  mediaeval  days  of  knighthood  and  chivalry 
could  hope  for,  or  could  have  bought  with  a 
king's  ransom. 

In  recent  years  there  has  been  a  multiplication^ 
of  books  about  nature  and  animal  life.     TFie^ 
have   their   place   in   the   home   library,   as  als(? 
have  books  about  gardens  and  gardening.     Th( 
are  all  attractive  because  they  persuade  the  reader 
to  try  pleasant  life  out-( 


The  Little  Kingdom  of  Home 


-have  latterly  been  led  to  think  oftener  than  be- 
fore about  the  life  and  needs  of  our  animal 
friends,  and  of  those  wild  beasts  which  seek 
their  meat  from  God,  yet  which  have  certain 
qualities  that  command  our  respect  and  elicit 
our  compassion  once  we  become  acquainted  with 
them.  The  more  we  leani  about  her  secrets, 
the  more  childlike  is  our  attitude  at  the  feet 
of  the  mother  who  spreads  before  us  her  open 
>k  of  the  four  seasons,  each  beautiful  in  its 
ly  and  time,  and  the  nearer  we  get  to  God. 
iture  is  God's  interpreter. 
Miction,  romantic  or  realistic,  can  never  lose 
place  an^rnold  in  and  upon  the  hearts  of 
Ln  wh^^we  continue  to  yearn  as  children  for 
of  the  story.  Whoever  can  tell  a 
iand  entertainingly  is  forever  sure  of 
>>attention  of  an  audience  of  thought- 
^he   story-teller    is    the    modem 


standara'^^^^  which   should  have 

n  theMS^^s^i-ary  are  those  of  Sir 

usten, George  Eliot,  William 

T^mckeray,  Cliarles  Dickens,  George 

anieiHawtll>rne,  and  Mrs.  Oli- 

[346] 


"phant.  I  mention  the  latter  writer  with  intention, 
because  in  the  long  catalogue  of  her  works, 
though  much  is  of  transient  interest,  she  presents 
portrait  after  portrait  of  lovely  English  and 
Scottish  girlhood  and  womanhood,  giving  beauti- 
ful examples  for  our  girls  to  follow.  These 
are  but  a  few  of  the  novelists. 

No  library  will  be  complete  without  some  of 
the  great  essayists ;  Matthew  Arnold,  John  Rus- 
kin,  Charles  Lamb,  Thomas  Carlyle,  Augustine 
Birrell,  Ralph  Waldo  Emerson,  Walter  Savage 
Landor,  and  others.  Choose  as  you  will,  but 
choose. 

For  historians  we  need  Hume  and  Gibbon  and 
Hallam,  Macaulay,  Motley,  Fiske,  Prescott,  and 
many  another. 

The  shelf  devoted  to  biography  will  be  very  jf^iti^ 
rich   in   human   interest,    including   such   worl 
as  Boswell's  "  Life  of  Johnson,"  the  different  bi( 
graphical   studies  of  Augustus  J.   C.   Hare,  tl 
Life  of  Gladstone,  of  Abraham  Lincoln,  and  tl 
lives  of  men  and  women  famous  in  their  age 
literature,  in  romance,  in  the  pulpit,  or  in  polities' 
In  reading  biography,  one  is  always  reading  his 
tory,  because  a  great  man  gathers  around  himseT 

[347] 


host  of  great  people,  and  focuses  around  his 
person  the  leading  events  of  his  era. 

A  word  of  caution  is  in  order  for  people  who 
think  their  children  well  employed  if  only  they 
are  reading.  They  may  be  well  employed,  or 
it  may  be  just  the  reverse.  Time  spent  over  a 
bad  book  is  time  not  only  thrown  away,  but 
time  assassinated.  As  we  carefully  guard  the 
associations  of  our  children  and  keep  them  from 
vile  companions,  from  the  company  of  the  vulgar 
and  the  unscrupulous,  so  we  should  stand  guard 
over  the  books  they  read.  The  seed  of  future 
infidelity  and  skepticism  may  drop  into  a  young 
mind  from  a  meretricious  book.  A  boy  may 
be  led  to  go  wrong,  very  far  wrong,  through 
reading  the  hairbreadth,  daredevil  adventures  of 
some  impossible  hero,  whom,  in  his  inexperience, 
he  admires  and  toward  whom  he  turns  as  to  an 
Foolishly  the  boy  imitates  and  emulates  the 
ts  which  seem  to  his  young  mind  so  splendid 
o  brave.  In  gloomy  prisons  there  are  young 
serving  long  terms,  men  with  ruined  lives 
shoulci  have  been  prolific  of  good,  wearing 
fG;Jn  servitude  to  the  state,  because 
'netted  in  the  formative  period  to 

5§^      [348] 


^ 


read  wicked  and  impossibly  sensational  books^^ 
Reckless  lads  who  start  out  as  highway  robbers, 
who  wreck  trains  that  they  may  have  a  chance  to 
steal  from  passengers,  who  indulge  in  any  silly 
and  senseless  crime  inspired  by  bad  books,  have 
our  pity. 

But  what  shall  we  say  of  parents  who  have 
allowed  such  foes  to  creep  into  their  citadel? 
There  are  not  wanting  evil-minded  persons  who 
surreptitiously  disseminate  bad  books  and  papers 
from  mercenar}'-  motives,  and  they  are  as  much 
to  be  dreaded  as  the  cobra  or  the  rattlesnake. 
The  good  book  may  be  a  guardian  angel ;  the  bad 
book  is  always  an  emissary  of  Satan.  The  home 
library  should  admit  only  the  first  and  should  bar 
out  the  other. 

A  good  plan  is  for  father  or  mother  simply 
to  ask  that  the  book  that  may  possibly  be  doubtfi 
shall  l>e  read  aloud  in  the  home  circle.     No 
book  ever  stands  this  test. 

In  order  to  keep  in  touch  with  the  movemt 
of  the  community  and  of  the  world  at  large,  no 
can  afford  to  do  without  the  newspapers.    Peri( 
icals  have  their  legitimate  place  in  the  home^ 
are  as  needful  as  daily  jS&il^-£ach  home- 


The  Little  Kingdom  of  Home 


z:^ 


make  some  provision  for  this  outlay  by  a  sub- 
scription to  a  weekly  or  monthly  religious  paper, 
and  a  secular  daily,  or  at  least  semi-weekly  paper, 
which  gives  current  information.  The  world  is 
drawn  very  closely  together  by  swift  means  of 
transportation.  Steam  and  electricity  make 
knowledge  run  to  and  fro.  We  know  the  doings 
of  the  globe  morning  by  morning.  People  who 
are  not  informed  as  tO'  the  current  events  of  the 
^ay  are  not  keeping  pace  with  the  procession, 
lere  is  much  in  the  press  to  which  we  need  not 
ive  very  close  attention,  but  there  is  a  great 
ial  more  which  we  cannot  afford  to  overlook, 
(d  the  familWncome,  whatever  it  may  be,  should 
so  m^^^ed  that  among  the  various  demands 
in  iWrnre  shall  be  a  chance  to  pay  for  litera- 


% 


m  Sj^!ftP  schools,  pupils  are  every  day  questioned 

yents  and  are,   as  a  part  of  their 

jLly  eSlic^^  taught  carefully  and  intelligently 

n^Jtb^  newsp^kp^ts^^Qpnversation  at  the  home 

^venMg  lamp  ought  not  to  be 

ood^il^ossip,  or  to  the  small 

d  the  village,  but  should 

ffairs  of  the  country 

[350] 


I'&ble  and  around 

^ttifined  to  nei 
?s  of  thr 


and  the  world.  The  farther  we  hve  from  great 
cosmopohtan  centres,  the  more  urgent  is  our 
necessity  to  study  and  learn,  to  keep  abreast  and 
know  what  people  are  doing  over  the  hills  and 
far  away. 


[351] 


[353] 


L^ 


^ 


ERE  stand  the  champions  to  defe^ 

From  every  wound  that  flesh  can 

Here  science,  patience,  skill  shall  blend 

To  save,  to  calm,  to  help,  to  heal. 


/^j^' 


-k 


IKC 


[354] 


CHAPTER  XXIII. 


Two  Friends  of  the  Family 


FEW   friends  enter  into  the  inner  life  of 
the  home  so  intimately  as  do  the  friends 
on  whom  the  family  calls  with  confidence 
in  its  hours  of  emergency.    Yet  there  is  a  strange 
paradox  about  this  friendship.     For  instance,  for 
months  together  we  may   forget  all   about  the 
family  doctor,  till  there  breaks  the  spell  a  morn- 
ing when  a  child  is  flushed  with  fever,  or  there 
comes  a  midnight  when  sudden  terror  envelops 
a   household   over   some   one   stricken   and   laid 
low.     The  swift  impulse  is  to  send  as  soon  as^^ 
may  be  for  the  man  who  will  know  what  to  dj  ""' 
whose   entrance   into   the   house   brings   with 
relief  and  courage,  and  on  whose  skill  we 
stinctively  lean.     The  physician   is  a  persons 
of  importance  wherever  we  find  him.     He 
be  a  specialist  who  confines  attention  to  insic 
ious  maladies,  or  to  whom  th^gg^g^who 
threatened  with  blindness  or 

[355]($ 


The  Little  Kingdom  of  Home 


m 


V' 


mysterious  peril  which  suspends  over  their  heads 
its  quivering  sword,  and  which  they  cannot  de- 
fine or  understand.  What  honor  is  paid  this 
great  man,  yet  he  is  less  the  family  friend  than 
the  all-around  old-fashioned  doctor.  His  shabby 
gig  in  the  country  goes  its  daily  miles  over  rough 
roads,  through  storm  and  night  and  cold.  Alike 
he  watches  at  the  gates  of  life  and  death,  is  with 
the  mother  in  her  trial-hour,  and  with  the  old 
man  who  turns  his  face  to  the  wall,  as  breath 
ebbs  out  with  the  tide.  The  homely  figure  of 
the  family  doctor  is  familiar  to  us  all,  and  we 
know  how  cheery  the  sound  of  his  voice,  how 
pleasant  the  fall  of  his  step  on  the  stair,  and  how 
gracious  the  calm  he  brings  to  our  perturbation. 
No  man  is  so  unquestioned  an  autocrat.  All 
obey  his  behests.  Not  always  may  we  read  his 
verdict  in  his  face,  for  doctors  learn  to  be  im- 
ssive,  and  to  conceal  that  which  might  crash 
a  thunderbolt  upon  anxious  hearts.  The 
Actor's  training  makes  him  alert,  quick  to  see  a 
mger  and  to  fight  it,  and  when  he  enters  upon 
)ng  campaign  with  a  lingering  fever,  he  has 
the  skill,  and  the  foresight  of  one 
'fW)se   foes  who  attack   from  under 

[356] 


•Cover.  He  is  not  easily  daunted.  The  recipient 
of  many  delicate  confidences,  the  sharer,  it  may 
easily  be,  of  some  unhappy  family  secrets,  his 
professional  honor  is  stainless.  He  holds  secrets 
inviolate  under  a  seal  not  less  sacred  than  that 
which  protects  the  confessional  of  a  church.  A 
man  must  have  limbs  of  steel  and  sinews  of  whip- 
cord to  endure  the  physical  strain  that  comes 
upon  him,  often  thoughtlessly  called  upon  after 
his  round  for  the  day  is  over,  often  quite  unable 
to  secure  what  his  patients  and  their  friends  sel- 
dom miss,  a  good  night's  rest. 

He  is  not  without  his  peculiar  trials,  for  those 
who  send  for  him  in  haste  frequently  pay  him 
at  leisure,  and  he  seldom  utters  a  protest. 

The  renowned  specialist  may  have  a  deep  purse 
and  a  large  bank-account,  but  the  family  doctor 
is   compelled   to   wait   indefinitely   for   his   wellr 
earned  stipend,  and  his  wife  and  daughters  s; 
vey  with   some  bitterness  the   rich   clothing 
their   neighlx)rs   who   are   in   the   doctor's   d( 
His  books  are  commentaries  on  the  fallibility" 
human  nature.     Derelict  debtors  blandly  ignc 
their  obligations,  and  send  for  the  doctor 


The  Little  Kingdom  of  Home 


when  they  are  ill.     It  would  be  unprofessional^^ 
for  him  to  refuse  attendance  and  ministration. 

In  seasons  of  epidemic  physicians  assume  a 
heroic  stature.  Gallantly  they  meet  the  issue. 
Martyrs,  if  need  be,  they  shirk  no  service.  The 
baleful  wings  of  plague,  cholera,  smallpox,  yellow 
fever,  or  typhoid  brood  over  a  city.  Others  flee. 
Doctors  remain  at  their  post.  Promptly  and 
efficiently  they  toil,  going  with  equal  zeal  to  the 
^mes  of  squalor  or  of  splendor.  Sometimes 
are  victims  to  their  beloved  science,  and 
^any  a  noble  life  has  been  laid  down  at  last,  the 
reless  healer  worn  to  the  final  shred.  As  of 
rsician,  of  such  it  may  be  said,  "  He 
Himself  he  could  not  save." 
!e  doctors  do  not  discriminate,  but  go 
same  kindness  wherever  they  are 
nshing  their  care  upon  suffering  hu- 
generosity  that  is  unparalleled 
vocation.  In  hospital  the  poorest 
teives  the  skilled  service  of  the  eminent 
Iwithool^Sffiafe^feid  without  stint.  In 
/s^'^syr^^T  is  sc^advanced  an  art  and 
iercifulyW^|!^^'?thetics  has  made  possible 
uch  tli*,t»^'OTcHjnh^rd  of,  that  the  death- 


[358] 


rate  is  lower  and  the  life-rate  higher  than  in  any-/( 
previous  age.  As  between  the  attention  a 
surgical  patient  may  receive  in  the  most  luxu- 
rious private  house  and  that  which  is  common 
to  all  in  a  hospital,  either  in  public  wards  or 
in  separate  rooms,  there  is  absolutely  no  com- 
parison. In  the  hospital  every  appliance  is  at  hand, 
w^ith  the  most  modern  apparatus  and  the  service 
of  a  corps  of  skilful  doctors  who  are  on  duty 
by  day  and  night. 

When,    therefore,    the    family   doctor   advises 
that  a  patient  be  transferred  from  the  home  to 
the  hospital,  there  should  not  be  the  shiver  of 
apprehension  and   dread  that  once   obtained   at 
the  thought.     Only  the   ignorant  or  the  unin- 
formed   now    retain    the    overmastering   horror 
which  was  formerly  general.     When  the  ambu-^^ 
lance  rushes  like  a  whirlwind  through  the  ci 
street,  having  the  undisputed  right  of  way  as, 
hurries  to  relieve  suffering,  to  snatch  up  some 
who  has  been  hurt,  and,  if  possible,  carry 
with  the  greatest  speed  to  the  place  where 
and  healing  may  be  given,  it  is  as  if  this  we 
the    modern    manifestation    ol'--^^^^  ^"    ou 
crowded  streets.     These  deft-Hliaa^^lnd  so 


The  Little  Kingdom  of  Home 


-what  brusque-tongiied  young  men  within  it  are 
sent  on  angels'  errands  and  do  angels'  work. 

Within  a  short  period  the  trained  nurse,  from 
being  unusual,  has  become  a  familiar  figure. 
Doctors,  indeed,  decline  to  undertake  the  charge 
of  a  critical  case  without  her  presence  in  the  sick- 
room. She  comes  in,  a  quiet  woman,  young, 
neat,  efficient,  wearing  a  modest  uniform,  alert, 
obedient  to  the  doctor,  and,  above  all  things, 
devoted  to  her  patient. 

It  is  the  part  of  the  family  who  employ  a 
nurse  to  make  her  as  comfortable  as  possible, 
giving  her  a  good  bed  and  shielding  from  in- 
terruption her  hours  of  rest.  Sleep  and  exercise 
she  must  have.  She  is  not  superhuman.  The 
complaint  is  made  that  the  professional  nurse 
is  at  feud  with  servants,  and  keeps  members  of 
the  family  away  from  the  side  of  her  patient.  If 
Ijiloes  the  latter,  it  is  not  because  as  a  nurse 
jas  had  training,  but  either  because  she  lacks 
lanly  tact,  or  is  under  orders.  Servants  de- 
dislikes  for  little  reason,  and  may  be  jealous 
>mer.  She  has  no  smooth  pathway, 
jpman  is  agonized  with  fear  and 
hysteria,  she  is  disqualified  for 

[360] 


he  duties  that  crowd  upon  the  caretaker  in  se- 
rious iHness.  Her  very  love  is  a  source  of  weak- 
ness, and  she  is  better  away  from  than  in  the 
sufferer's  presence. 

The  nurse,  being  a  detached  person,  looking  at 
lier  patient  only  as  some  one  whom  she  must 
help  and  for  whom  she  must  do  her  very  best, 
has  not  the  mental  complications  of  the  anxious 
mother,  sister,  or  wife.  Good  nursing  has  quite 
as  much  to  do  with  the  recovery  of  the  ordinary 
patient  as  skilful  medical  advice.  Whoever  alter- 
nates with  the  nurse  must  acquire  her  air  of 
calm  and  imitate  her  sleepless  vigilance.  All 
honor  to  her  as  one  of  the  best  of  friends  in 
need. 

Within  the  memory  of  women  not  yet  old,  it 
was  a  question  of  grave  import  whether 
woman  doctor  could  be  trusted  in  a  diffiailt  case 
The  brave  women  who  first  studied  medicir 
did  so  almost  under  a  ban  and  against  odds.  It 
was  extremely  hard  for  them  to  secure  the  ed 
cation  they  sought,  and  they  were  immen 
handicapped  by  the  force  of  disapproving  a 
dubious  public  opinion,  that  surveyed  them  w^fth 
suspicion.      Nobody    believed    ii^^^'^^dfmr^ 


nerves  could  endure  the  strain  of  the  dissecting- 
room,  nor  that  a  woman's  hand  could  be  fearless 
and  steady  in  surgery.  At  present  every  town 
and  village  has  its  practising  woman  physician, 
who  ranks  as  high  as  the  men  physicians  in  the 
neighborhood  who  meet  her  in  consultation, 
who  is  not  academic  nor  amateurish,  and  who 
does  not  lose  her  head  or  shirk  any  disagreeable 
or  dangerous  office.  In  certain  circumstances 
^omen  prefer  the  attendance  of  a  sister  woman, 
id  are  saved  much  nervous  distress  by  having 
ich  a  practitioner  within  call.  Women  physi- 
ms  are  needed  as  residents  in  women's  colleges, 
thejs^re  invaluable  to  hundreds  of  girls, 
the,  WQmen's  wards  of  charitable  institutions 
ildren's  hospitals  they  are  in  the  right 
wide  field  is  open  for  them  in  foreign 
Jhe  East  women  have  been  tortured 
)ecause  Oriental  civilization  at  its 
themjio  allow  a  man's  attendance, 
:y  of  ignorant  women, 
e  treated  like  outcasts 
of  physical  suffering 
women  are  concerned, 
'd  change  has  come. 


Women  doctors  from  Western  Christian  lands 
have  gone  to  the  rescue.  Medical  missionary 
work  is  increasingly  in  demand,  and  enlists  mag- 
nificent women. 

The  flower  of  our  women's  colleges,  the  finest 
gentlewomen  our  time  has  produced,  are  enrolled 
in  this  noble  profession,  and.  East  or  West,  as 
medical  missionaries  abroad,  or  medical  practi- 
tioners at  home,  deserve  and  receive  respect  and 
confidence.     On   the   mission   field   their  talents 
are  freely  devoted  to  the  service  of  Christ  and 
humanity.     Missionaries  are  always  poor  in  this 
world's  goods.     In  private  practice  in  the  home 
land  they  exact  and  receive  as  large  fees  as  do 
the  men  in  the  same  profession,  and  are  more 
businesslike,   as  a   rule,   in   collecting  their   just 
dues.     They  are  the  home's  peculiar  friends  and^^ 
allies,    and,    with    the    nurse,    become    includ 
among  the  most  precious  and  intimate  memb 
of  a  home  circle,  belonging  in  a  close  way 
the  household  they  bless. 

Laborious  indeed  are  the  tasks  both  doctor 
nurse  undertake.     They  assume  stern  respons 
bilities,  challenge  risks,  dare  the  \<forM  death 
do,  scorn  ease  and  idleness,  take  their  siiare 

[363]    ''^^ 


^"^ 


k^.. 


The  Little  Kingdom  of  Home      S 


■  life's  drudgery  in  both  hands.     God  bless  them, 
and  keep  them,  must  be  every  woman's  prayer. 

Dr.  Ohver  Wendell  Holmes,  at  the  dedication 
of  a  hospital  named  for  him,  said,  in  a  happy 
occasional  verse : 

"  Who  is  our  brother  ?     He  that  lies 

Left  at  the  wayside,  bruised  and  sore : 
His  need  our  open  hand  supplies, 
His  welcome  waits  him  at  our  door. 


'«  Not  ours  to  ask  in  freezing  tones 
His  race,  his  calling,  or  his  creed; 
Each  heart  the  tie  of  kinship  owns, 

When  those  are  human  veins  that  bleed. 

"  Here  stands  the  champion  to  defend 
From  every  wound  that  flesh  can  feel ; 
Here  science,  patience,  skill,  shall  blend 
To  save,  to  calm,  to  help,  to  heal. 

'  Father  of  mercies  !     Weak  and  frail. 
Thy  guiding  hand  thy  children  ask ; 
Let  not  the  Great  Physician  fail 
To  aid  us  in  our  holy  task." 


,  the  same  gifted  poet  and  doctor 
'c  read  at  a  medical  banquet  with 

[364] 


these  lines,  the  picture  being  of  St.  Peter  guard- 
ing the  gates  above: 


"  While  Valor's  haughty  champions  wait 
Till  all  their  scars  are  shown, 
Love  walks  uncliallenged  through  the  gate 
To  sit  beside  the  throne." 


A  word  of  advice  may  be  pardoned,  for  illness 
intrudes  on  the  home,  and,  when  prolonged,  it 
often  wears  out  the  well  as  it  preys  upon  the 
sick.  I  have  seen  the  slow  decay  of  an  invalid 
use  up  the  vital  force  of  stronger  lives,  so  that 
the  caretaker  has  died  at  her  post,  while  the 
fragile  invalid  has  survived.  Where  it  is  possible 
to  retrench  without  injury  in  those  departments 
of  dress  or  table  superfluity  in  which  economy 
may  be  practised,  let  this  always  be  done  and 
a  good  nurse  employed.  Nurses  know  not  onh 
how  to  relieve  suffering,  but  their  presence  cc 
serves  the  vigor  of  young  lives  that  may 
wasted  in  vain.  There  is  heart-break  in  see? 
a  young  life  cut  down  in  the  care  of  a  feeB! 
older  one,  if  the  sacrifice  can  be  spared. 

In   acute  attacks,   malignant   or  otherwises  a 
hospital  is  a  better  plac 


The  Little  Kingdom  of  Home 


ferer  who  can  be  taken  there.  I  am  sure  that  a, 
day  is  fast  approaching  when  sensible  men  and 
women  wiH  refuse  to  be  ill  at  home,  or  willingly 
accept  the  chances  of  recovery  in  a  home  en- 
vironment. 


[366] 


[367] 


T  T  isn't  the  thing  you  do,  dear, 

It's  the  thing  you  leave  undone 
That  gives  you  a  bit  of  a  heartache 

At  the  setting  of  the  sun. 
The  tender  word  forgotten, 

The  letter  you  did  not  w^rite, 
The  flowers  you  might  have  sent, 

Are  your  haunting  ghosts  at  night." 


[368] 


CHAPTER  XXIV. 


The  Fine  Armor  of  Courtesy 


GURIOUS  antagonisms,  as  unreasonable 
as  they  are  painful,  arise  between  people 
of  the  same  blood.  Very  admirable  men 
and  women  are  at  times  "  gey  ill  to  live  with," 
The  stress  of  daily  living  in  the  undress  and 
unreserve  of  home,  where  people  are  on  every- 
day terms,  where  they  speak  hastily  and  show 
irritation,  and  are  distraught  over  trifles,  is  no 
slight  test  of  the  wearing  qualities  of  character. 
It  has  been  very  truly  said  that  we  never  know 
any  one  with  whom  we  have  not  summered  and 
wintered.  Several  days  of  intercourse,  in  a  rain; 
season,  at  a  country  inn,  are,  to  our  cert 
knowledge,  apt  to  prove  revelations  of 
friends,  which  may  show  them  in  a  quite 
light. 

Homes  should  be  little  islands  of  the  bl 
in  the  midst  of  life's  temi>est-tossed  sea.     Hiifties 
should  be  sanctuaries, 


tion  should  ever  invade  them.  No  asperiti( 
Wight  their  peace.  Once  within  the  door  of 
home,  every  sharp  and  bitter  word  should  become 
impossible.  People  who  love  one  another,  who 
are  loyally  devoted  to  one  another's  interests,  and 
would  die  rather  than  do  another  a  lasting  injury, 
dwell  under  one  roof.  Do  they  dwell  at  ease, 
never  wounding,  never  dealing  thrusts  that  are 
none  the  less  poisoned  because  they  are  of  the 
lind's  forging,  and  not  of  the  brutal  dagger 
)r  sword?  Alas!  there  are  few  who  do  not 
mow  by  experience,  or  who  have  not  been  con- 
vinced by  observation,  that  home  is  often  the 
(east  conol^rtable  place  on  earth. 

Tempers  are  so  diverse  as  to  be  incompatible. 

Toman  may  possess  genius,  may  be  superbly 

i^  and,  in  her  own  eyes,  have  a  conscience 

)roach.     Yet  she  has  a  fatal  suscepti- 

ofifence.     Her  family  are  forever 

thin   ice.     At   the   table,   warning 

fnals  of  rough  weather 

ther.     If  you  touch  in 

len  theme,  a  theme  for- 

fy  considerations  of  policy,  the 

"^     er=^g.     Look  out  for  the 

[370] 


^v 


The  Fine  Armor  of  Courtesy 


,  explosion.  I  know  good  women,  the  salt  of  tne] 
earth,  who  are  occasionally  possessed  by  a  duml 
devil.  You  cannot  tell  how  he  entered,  or  why, 
but  there  he  is,  and  the  woman,  at  her  best  sunny- 
hearted  and  sweet,  sulks,  frets,  looks  injured,  and 
is  silent.  In  the  black  shadow  of  that  oppressive 
silence,  every  good  thought  takes  wing  and  every 
hot  resentment  flourishes.  To  exaggerate  the 
hopeless  misery  inflicted  in  a  home,  on  a  long- 
suffering  husband,  or  loving  children,  by  a  tem- 
per of  this  sort,  is  impossible.  Especially  if  it 
is  pitted  against  tempers  mercurial,  thoughtless, 
rash,  and  inconsequent,  if  it  have  in  it  a  leaven 
of  dourness  and  gloom,  the  home  that  ought  to 
be  a  heaven  is  oftentimes  a  hell. 

Unless  we  are  blind  or  self -deceived,  we  do 
not  usually  drift  without  an  inner  protest  into 
such  expressions  of  annoyance  or  perverseness 
cloud  the  family  horizon  and  provoke  family  y< 
As  a  rule  we  sin  open-eyed.    Apollyon  bestradt 
the   whole   path,   as   he   did   in   the   "  Pilgri 
Progress,"  and,  instead  of  giving  him  battle,' 
bow  and  smile,  and  fling  wide  the  heart's  d^ 
and  in  he  walks.    As  a  child  who  is^perfectly  w^ 
aware  that  it  is  naughty,  in  s^ 

[371] 


^v 


The  Little  Kmgdom  of  Home 


deliberately  from  bad  to  worse,  so  we  grown-up. 
children  at  times  take  delight  in  being  hateful 
and  malicious.  But  away  from  home,  in  the 
office,  the  bank,  the  club,  the  company  of  our 
friends,  ill-temper  would  not  be  tolerated.  We 
may  feel  as  cross  as  we  choose  among  our  ac- 
quaintances, but  woe  to  us  if  we  show  it.  We 
may  not  take  down  the  smiling  mask,  nor  dis- 
play ill-temper  unrebuked,  except  in  our  homes, 
where  people  forgive  because  they  love  us. 

Squabbles  over  matters  of  no  account,  argu- 
ments heated  and  tinctured  with  superlatives, 
fierce  discussions  and  useless  debates,  are  carried 
on,  of  all  places  in  the  world,  at  home.  Brothers 
take  opposite  sides  on  a  political  issue;  fathers 
and  sons  are  alienated,  both  sides  being  so  pos- 
itive that  reconciliation  recedes  into  the  distance; 
husbands  and  wives,  overcandid,  overimpetuous, 
jak  to  one  another  unwelcome  truths  in  un- 
lonious  fashion, 
from  a  kernel  so  tiny  that  it  was  hardly  visible 
ler  a  magnifying-glass,  springs  a  tree  that 
ters  death  from  its  branches,  death  to  affec- 
kindness.  Little  spiteful  things 
lateful.     An  ungoverned  tongue, 

[372] 


'a  voluminous  vocabulary,  a  habit  of  speaking 
without  due  thought,  and  home  peace  is  wrecked 
on  the  reefs  of  the  shore  of  disillusion. 

Objective  causes  of  home  discord  are  plenty. 
A  man,  at  best  a  blunderer,  brings  home  his 
business  worries.  A  woman,  tormented  by  her 
kitchen  botherations,  pours  them  out  upon  a  tired 
husband.  A  great  deal  of  wretchedness  ensues 
when  there  are  millionaire  tastes  to  be  indulged 
on  poverty's  income.  A  good  many  of  us  are 
overcome  by  the  lust  of  the  eye,  the  lust  of  the 
flesh,  and  the  pride  of  life,  the  same  old  tempta- 
tions. "  Things  are  in  the  saddle  and  ride  man- 
kind." Far  too  often,  dissatisfied  with  existing 
conditions,  we  wear  an  ungracious  aspect  and 
remain  in  a  state  of  chronic  complaint  against 
our  environment.  We  might  be  at  once  emanci- 
pated, could  we  but  acquire  a  heavenly  art  an 
say  with  Saint  Paul,  "  I  have  learned  the  secre 
in  whatsoever  state  I  am,  therewith  to  be  co 
tent." 

The  plain  truth  is  that  most  of  our  home  pi 
pricks,  and  most  of  our  home  tribulations,  spr 
from  purely  subjective 
within,  are  born  of  van 


igs      The  Little  Kingdom  of  Home 


ire,  in  a  majority  of  instances,  the  result  of 
inability  to  perceive  anything  from  a  standpoint 
not  personal.  In  the  home,  a  dozen  times  a  day, 
we  must  accept  another's  view-point.  The  mis- 
tress must  see  a  situation  as  it  looks  to  the  maid 
—  must  have  the  fairness  to  change  places  men- 
tally with  the  woman  she  employs.  The  child 
must  be  given  the  benefit  of  the  parent's  power 
to  step  into  the  child's  world,  the  world  of  play, 
^  swiftly  moving  present,  the  world  where  a 
disappointment  looms  so  large.  Because, 
use  an  old-fashioned  phrase  that  we  repeat  in 
prayer-book  most  glibly,  we  are  all  miserable 
mers.  we^re  disagreeable,  contrary,  morbid, 
id  thus  we  hurt  our  homes  and  destroy 
charm.  The  angel  with  a  flaming 
shuts  most  Adams  and  Eves  out  of 
:is  the  angel  of  inordinate  self-will 
|e,  and  he  carries  no  weapons  of 
FeaFs  thejivery  of  Satan. 

selves  and  our  homes 
ot  through  infidelity, 
unreason  ? 
such  rules  as  these, 


I.  Allow  thyself  to  complain  of  nothing,  not 
even  of  the  weather. 

"  2.  Never  picture  thyself  to  thyself  under  any 
circumstances  in  which  thou  art  not. 

"  3.  Never  compare  thine  own  lot  with  that 
of  another. 

"  4.  Never  allow  thyself  to  dwell  on  the  wish 
that  this  or  that  had  been,  or  were,  otherwise 
than  it  was,  or  is.  God  Almighty  loves  thee 
better  and  more  wisely  than  thou  dost  thyself. 

"  5.  Never  dwell  on  the  morrow.  Remember 
that  it  is  God's,  not  thine.  The  heaviest  part  of 
sorrow  often  is  to  look  forward  to  it.  *  The 
Lord  will  provide.'  " 

In  the  next  place,  let  us  put  on  and  wear  the 
fine  armor  of  an  unflawed  courtesy. 

To  be  polite,  no  matter  how  great  the  provoca- 
tion to  be  curt  and  rude,  is  to  turn  away  th< 
shafts  of  irony,   of  boorishness,   and  of  ange^ 
Politeness  clothes  its  wearer  with  a  coat  of  m: 
which  turns  the  edge  of  every  weapon  of  attacj 
A  little  stately  ceremony  is  not  amiss  in  the  hor 
The  gallantry  of  the  gentleman  of  the  old  school^ 
the   deferent   grace  of  the  lady^ 
ancient  regime,  are  defensive 

[375] 


/^b 


m 


.^.^ 


cursion  of  the  blues,  and  of  brusque  repartee    -=^^ 
born  of  those  unhappy  spirits. 

For  one  thing,  it  takes  time  to  be  poHte.  You 
may  knock  over  a  chair  or  a  child  if  you  are 
in  a  hurry.  You  may  be  clumsy  and  inoppor- 
tune, and  behave  like  a  bear,  if  you  have  neither 
time  nor  good  temper  at  your  command.  But 
the  more  haste  the  less  speed,  A  few  minutes 
on  the  right  side,  and  you  enter  a  room  with  an 
air  of  ease,  you  upset  nothing,  you  speak  to 
every  one,  you  conceal  your  transient  irritation, 
and  presently  you  have  forgotten  it.  We  owe  it 
to  ourselves  and  our  loved  ones,  in  home  life, 
to  flavor  every  action  with  a  fine  politeness. 

This  would  save  us  from  blurting  out  caustic 
comments  which  blister  and  burn.  Praise  and 
appreciation  are  the  handmaids  of  politeness. 
The  oil  of  praise  silences  the  creaking  of  the 
hinge,  makes  smooth  the  daily  intercourse, 
ish  I  might  recommend  to  every  boy  and 
imCj  the  practice  of  that  fine  courtesy  which  is 
ex^essed  in  the  lifting  of  the  hat,  in  gentleness 
vt^^^rd  wjQjcpoj^in  reverence  toward  the  aged,  and 
;-i^eriors.  I  wish  I  might  remind 
that  civility  induces  civility,  that 

[376] 


)hly  those  who  acknowledge  courtesy    are  ever 
really  entitled  to  it. 

People  talk  fatuously  about  company  manners. 
In  "  A  Window  in  Thrums,"  Jess  assumed  her 
English  voice  when  she  was  greeting  guests.  Ah, 
friends,  we  do  not  want  company  manners  for 
home  life.  We  want  manners  so  simple,  graceful, 
and  spontaneous  that  they  shall  be  as  natural 
as  breathing. 

A  common  fault  in  home  life  and  a  common 
flaw  of  courtesy  is  the  giving  reproof  before 
listeners.  Children  and  servants  must  occa- 
sionally be  set  right  when  wrong.  But  reproof  at 
its  best  is  not  agreeable,  and  when  it  is  harshly  or 
publicly  pronounced  it  arouses  an  instant  and  irre- 
pressible opposition.  A  child,  forbidden  to  an- 
swer back,  with  no  refuge  beyond  a  scowl,  which 
itself  summons  a  second  reproof,  is  to  be  pitied. 
In  the  bright  future,  when  we  shall  be  altruisti(V 
as  we  are  not  now,  courtesy  will  remind  us  that 
our  criticisms  must  never  be  made  before  a  thi 
person.  Of  all  disagreeable  situations,  the  wors 
is  that  in  which  one  is  charged  with  an  error 
a  transgression  with  oth 


The  Little  Kingdom  of  Home 


V' 


The  fine  armor  of  courtesy  goes  outside  the 
home,  and  affects  our  manners  on  the  road.  It  is, 
alas,  in  absence  at  our  great  railway  terminals  and 
in  our  street  conveyances,  where  weakness  and 
womanhood  are  ruthlessly  elbowed  aside,  and 
rough  brute  strength  crowds  in,  tramples  down, 
and  seizes  the  best  places.  Can  it  be  that  the 
good  sons  of  good  mothers  take  part  in  the  fierce 
scrimmage  that  makes  terrifying  the  rush-hours 
bridge  or  a  ferry  in  a  city  like  New  York? 
iat  has  become  of  home  traditions  in  a  throng 
it  makes  of  itself  a  wedge,  and  hurls  itself  on 
itever  resists,  even  on  old  age  and  children? 
suburj^  train,  one  winter's  day,  a  young 
the  signs  about  him  of  student  life, 
)ther  tokens  revealing  him  as  from 
school,  sat  absorbed  in  a  grammar. 
^g  a  lesson  for  the  next  day.  Oppo- 
kn  peasant  woman,  a  purple  shawl 
^  shoulders,  a  child  in  her  arms, 
iwith  little  feet  stick- 
it  her  side.  She  had 
iundle  wrapped  in  a 
incumbered,  the  brake- 


lan  announced  her  station.  She  struggled  to  her 
feet,  baby  in  her  arms,  baby  tugging  at  her  skirts, 
bundle  weighing  her  down. 

Up  rose  the  young  student  and  touched  his  cap. 
He  picked  up  the  bundle,  he  took  the  older  child 
by  its  little  grimy  hand.  "  This  way,  madam," 
he  said,  as  if  addressing  a  duchess,  "  follow  me." 
He  assisted  her  from  the  train,  returned,  took 
his  seat,  and  went  on  studying,  serenely  uncon- 
scious that  he  had  helped  weakness  in  distress, 
and  j>erformed  a  valorous  act.  Whatever  home 
had  sent  him  forth,  fine  courtesy  was  there. 

It  was  a  broiling  August  day  in  New  York. 
Temperature  ninety  degrees  in  the  shade.  A 
woman  past  middle-age,  lame,  bulky  with  great 
unwieldiness  of  flesh,  strove  to  step  into  an  open 
car.  She  was  awkward,  clumsy,  in  pain.  "  Don't 
hurry,  madam.  Take  your  time,"  said  one  ger 
tleman,  soothingly,  while  another,  young,  wel] 
dressed,  clean-limbed,  and  athletic,  sprang  to  hj 
assistance. 

We  need   not  be  pessimists.      Good   manne 
have    not    vanished    from    America  —  they    are 
found  in  streets,  in  cars,  in  boats^ 
are  crowds,  some  who  compose 

[379] 


The  Little  Kingdom  of  Home 


cheerful  and  accommodating.  But  their  nursery  ^t^ 
is  the  home.  The  ethics  of  home  Hfe  that  omit 
courtesy  are  imperfect,  and  unless  we  cuhivate 
it,  cultivating  as  well  sincerity  and  simplicity  and 
genial  cordiality  for  all,  our  homes  will  pay  the 
penalty  in  an  inevitable  disintegration  and  dis- 
enchantment. 

"  Home,  home,  sweet,  sweet  home. 
Be  it  ever  so  humble,  there's  no  place  like  home." 


t£=^ 


We  cannot  afford  to  let  American  politeness 
suffer  by  comparison  with  the  politeness  of  any 
other  country. 

The  Frenchman  and  his  wife,  we  are  told,  walk 
side  by  side,  when  entering  some  public  place; 
the  Englishman  precedes  his  wife,  who  follows 
as  a  matter  of  course;   the  American  follows  his 
who,  as  a  matter  of  course,  leads  the  way. 
;^h  our  American   husbands   are  the  most 
pngly  generous  of  men,  and  American  wives 
in  a  paradise,  where  they  are  spoiled,  some 
y  incessant  homage,  yet  we  can- 
r  record.    We  are  busy  in  money- 
times  becomes  money-grabbing, 

[380] 


beautiful  task  of  setting  a  daily  pattern  in  which 
there  is  never  a  line  out  of  drawing. 


[381] 


[383] 


great  Napoleon.  When  courage  wavers,  H 
up  a   song.     The   lagging  regiment  takes   freslT 
heart  when  the  bugles  sound  a  merry  note. 


[384] 


CHAPTER  XXV. 

A  Little  Music  Now  and  Then 


NOT  long  ago,  in  a  neighborhood  settle- 
ment in  New  York,  I  found  a  piano  or 
two  on  every  floor,  and  discovered  that 
children  and  young  people  came  to  practice  at 
every  available  hour.  Lessons  were  given  by 
excellent  teachers,  and  the  pupils,  daughters  of 
the  tenements,  who  could  not  very  soon  hope  to 
have  a  piano  in  their  own  homes,  were  diligent 
in  acquiring  technique  and  skill.  Children  of 
foreign  parents,  and  coming  from  a  music-lov- 
ing race  and  country,  these  little  learners,  German, 
or  Polish,  or  Italian,  were  studying  a  refined  art^  } 
and  the  endeavor  to  master  scales  and  exercises 
was  drilling  them  In  perseverance,  attention,  and 
patience,  as  well  as  in  love  of  harmony.  Un- 
doubtedly in  the  course  of  time,  as  their  families  ,, 
rose  and  circumstances  grew  easier,  they  wotfld 
manage  to  obtain  a  pianc^ 
The   instalment   plar 


J,  [3^5j: 


'\ 


1^^ 


^ 


(^. 


^       The  Little  Kingdom  of  Home 

rJA^^  itself  to  these  people  of  small  incomes,  and  the^|>K 
"^        sewing-machine,    the    plush-covered    parlor    set,       '^' 
and  the  piano  are  daringly  bought  on  that  basis, 
as,  in  our  opulent  country,  the  children's  views 
of  what  are  must-haves  enlarge.     To  some  ob- 
servers it  seems  idle  to  encourage  these  daughters 
of  want  and  poverty  in  taking  up  a  study  so 
exacting  as  music,  while  their  mothers  are  going 
out  by  the  day  to  wash  and  scrub,  or  bending 
er  an  ironing-board.     But  the  time  they  spend 
music-lessons  and  practice  would  be  spent  in 
eir  only  playground,  the  street,  and  they  would 
rn   nothing   to   their   advantage   there,    while 
ted  by  every  surrounding  of  the 

lerican  homes  of  any  pretensions  are 

lis   tuneful   instrument.     We  hear  its 

tes  as  we  walk  down  elm  and  maple- 

)n  summer  mornings,  and  we  can 

.without  looking,  little  trim  figures  perched 

[by  fingers  striking  the 

bored  voices  over  and 

'    The  little  girl  has  on 

is  braided  in  a  pigtail, 

from  her  forehead. 


If  there  is  a  clock  in  the  room,  she  watches  it, 
and  if  there  is  a  mother  in  the  house,  she  watches 
both  clock  and  child.  "  No,  Amy,  you  have  ten 
minutes  more,"  she  calls,  and  Amy,  stoical  in  her 
resignation,  goes  back  to  her  five-finger  exercises 
and  her  weary  strumming. 

Out  of  this  drudgery,  most  little  women  achieve, 
not  very  much  musical   facility  perhaps,  but  an 
endless  amount  of  self-control.     They   reach   a 
standard  of  painstaking  which  helps  them  in  later 
years,  when  the  question  is  one  of  housekeeping, 
or  caring  for  an  invalid,  or  bearing  with  a  hus- 
band's caprices,  or  being  entertaining  in  society 
under  difficulties.    They  will  be  better  travellers  in 
a  week's  journey  across  the  continent  or  a  voyage 
over  the  ocean,  because  they  have  had  some  years 
of  piano  practice  under  the  supervision  of  a  rigid    ^..,,,<^ 
teacher.     Some  of  them  will  become  good  perf'^j^ff;^ 
formers,  and  in  their  homes  there  will  be  musr 
a  charm,  an  inspiration,  and  a  solace. 

Dr.    Oliver    Wendell    Holmes    wrote    in 
Atlantic  Monthly,  long  ago,  a  very  beautiful 
characteristic  lyric  describing  the  arrival  of  a  piar 
in  a  household,  in  those  homely  day^when  a  piang/ 

[387] 


,was  a  tning  ot  price  and  imported 
pense,  the  treasure  only  of  the  rich. 


"  In  the  little  southern  parlor  of  the  house  you  may  have 

seen 
With  the  gambrel  roof,  and  the  gable  looking  westward  to 

the  green, 
At  the  side  toward  the  sunset,  with  the  window  on  its  right 
Stood  the  London-made  piano,  I  am  dreaming  of  to-night! 

"  Ah  me  !  how  I  remember  the  evening  when  it  came ! 
What  a  cry  of  eager  voices,  what  a  group  of  cheeks  in 

flame. 
When  the  wondrous  box  was  opened  that  had  come  from 

overseas, 
With  its  smell  of  mastic- varnish  and  its  flash  of  ivory  keys ! 

"  Then  the  children  all  grew  fretful  in  the  restlessness  of 

joy> 

For  the  boy  would  push  his  sister,  and  the  sister  crowd  the 
boy, 

[the  father  asked  for  quiet  in  his  grave  paternal  way, 
le  mother  hushed  the  tumult  with  the  words,  •'  Now, 
Mary,  play." 


the  dear  soul  knew  that  music  was  a  very  sovereign 
it  over  Sorrow  and  seen  its  brow  grow 

[388] 


In  the  days  of  slender  harpsichords  with  tapping   tinkling 

quills, 
Or  carolling  to  her  spinet  with  its  thin  metallic  thrills. 

"  So   Mary,  the  household  minstrel,  who   always   loved   to 

please, 
Sat  down  to  the  new  '  Clementi,'  and  struck  the  glitterintj 

keys. 
Hushed  were  the  children's  voices,  and  every  eye  grew  dim, 
As,  floating  from  lip  and  finger,  arose  the  '  Veeper  Hymn.' 

•'  Catlierine,  child  of  a  neighbor,  curly  and  rosy-red, 
(Wedded  since,  and  a  widow,  —  something  like   ten  years 

dead,) 
Hearing  a  gush  of  music  such  as  none  before. 
Steals  from   her  mother's  chamber  and  peeps  at  the  open 

door. 

"  Just  as  the  '  Jubilate '  in  threaded  whisper  dies, 

'  Open  it !  open  it,  lady ! '  the  little  maiden  cries 

(For  she  thought  'twas  a  singing  creature  caged  in  a  box  she 

heard,) 
'  Open  it !  open  it,  lady  !  and  let  me  see  the  bird! '  " 

Among  the  beneficent  uses  of  a  little  music 
the  home,  none  are  more  worth  while  than  i 
power  to  tranquilize  discordant  and  jarring-  peo 
and  soothe  unmelodious  moods  as  well  as  soun 
The  great  trouble  is  that  good  home  player^re 
seldom  found.     A  mussfikCL's.^ast^j^i^a 


The  Little  Kingdom  of  Home 


Generally  speaking,  the  more  thorough  the  train- 
ing and  the  more  artistic  the  attainment,  the  less 
ready  is  the  performer  to  sit  down  and  play.  He 
or  she  is  out  of  practice,  or  requires  notes,  or  has 
some  admirable  excuse  to  offer,  and  the  piano 
remains  closed. 

A  young  girl  who  can  play  accompaniments 
well,  or  play  for  dancing,  or  play  for  a  tired  father 
in  the  evening,  or  in  a  prayer-meeting  for  the  sing- 
>,  is  a  social  and  a  family  prize.  She  diffuses 
[easure  at  every  turn,  and  one  may  depend  on 
without  fear  of  disappointment. 

ago,  American  ideas  of  music  were 

'^nd,  hand  in  hand  with  the  crude- 

a   notion  that  every  young  woman, 

jfsary  part  of  her  education,  must  play 

jhe  could,  when  finished,  as  the  phrase 

Home,  Sweet  Home,"  and  "  Mon- 

nth  variations.     She  could  sing  — 

ping,  Nelly  loved  so  long." 


rmimdstilly^lghtrwiren  slumber's  chain  hath  bound 
lel 

^^ond  iiij>.i)|]Hffg^Tiiiij],  the  light  6i  other  days  around  me." 


or  some  other  sentimental  song.     The  Civil  War- 
brought  its  rollicking  strains  — 

"  Tramp,  tramp,  tramp,  the  boys  are  marching." 

and  — 

•'  Rally  round  the  flag,  boys, 
Give  it  to  the  breeze." 

and  — 

"  John  Brown's  body  is  mouldering  in  the  grave, 
His  soul  is  marching  on." 

While   around    Southern   camp-fires   men    sang, 

"  Maryland,  my  Maryland,"  and  "  Away  down 

South  in  Dixie,"  knowing  full  well  that  wives  and 

sweethearts  with  breaking  hearts  and  proud  lips 

were  singing  them  at  home.     A  wave  of  martial 

music  swept  over  the  country  in  those  tragic  ^^Y^'^^^^'i 

when  the  cemeteries  were  dotted  with  their  whj 

stones,  and  the  ground  drank  the  blood  of 

best  beloved,  on  both  sides  of  the  contest.     Sii 

the  Civil  War  an  era  of  peace  and  prospei 

has  followed  that  grim  conflict,  and  our  p( 

have  amassed  fortunes,  and  gained  vast  materia 

wealth,    as    the    country    has^,'ie:Yi^^ss^re    hi 

developed. 

[391] 


We  have  the  finest  singers  and  the  finest  players 
of  the  world  here,  but  only  once  have  we  gone 
mad  over  any  great  singer,  and  that  was  when  the 
grandparents  were  young,  and  Jenny  Lind  came 
across  the  ocean.  We  plume  ourselves  on  know- 
ing good  music  now.  We  have  German  and 
Italian  and  English  opera.  Our  churches  give 
sacred  concerts  at  every  service.  Our  greatest 
musical  directors  conduct  "  People's  Singing 
Classes  "  among  the  poorest.  Yet,  it  is  an  open 
question  whether  we  get  the  good,  the  fun,  the 
pure  joy,  out  of  our  music  that  we  once  did, 
and  whether  the  most  advanced  conservatory 
affords  the  unstinted  delight  that  used  to  be  the 
portion  of  a  choir  meeting  in  the  country  on  a 
Saturday  night,  or  a  village  singing-school 
Vvhither  the  boys  and  girls  went,  for  innocent 
recreation,  ingenuous  courting,  and  incidental 
prstctice  in  do,  re,  mi,  fa,  sol,  si,  do! 

One  of  the  arguments  to  be  presented  in 
favor  of  keeping  up  one's  musical  facility,  if  one 
h94)pen  to  have  any,  is  that  in  the  inevitably 
gjis(y  days.-t^t,  come  into  life  as  one  goes  onward, 
lt"^r<av68^^  sij^  on  which  to  lean.  The  woman 
•^^»s4  ^^rs 'retain  some  of  their  old-time  use- 


c^ 


[392] 


\ 


,ful  obedience  to  her  will,  and  who,  fortunately 
for  herself,  has  not  lost  her  musical  memory, 
may  cheat  herself  of  dulness  and  loneliness ;  \veav- 
ing  thread  by  thread  the  dear  old  harmonies,  she 
may  sit  in  the  dusk,  and  grow  happy  and  young. 
Music  is  the  foe  of  morbidness.  A  mother  who 
sits  down  and  plays  the  tunes  she  played  when 
the  children  were  young  about  her,  may  not 
indeed  compete  with  her  boys  and  girls  in  pro- 
ficiency, but  the  sweetness  of  her  old-time  music 
is  not  outdone  by  theirs. 

The  height  of  unwisdom  is  in  letting  go  any- 
thing one  has  ever  acquired,  in  allowing  any 
talent  to  lie  folded  in  a  napkin,  in  permitting  rust 
to  dim,  or  neglect  to  destroy  any  w'eapon  once 
familiar  to  the  hand. 

A  woman  nearing  fifty  deliberately  took  up 
severe  and  serious  study  of  music  as  an  intellec-'' 
tual  discipline,  and  a  comfort  in  sorrow^  ye 
after  she  had,  as  she  thought,  laid  it  aside  forever 
With    the    utmost    perseverance    and    the    m 
determined  resolution,  she  adopted  the  habits  o^ 
her  girlhood,  obeyed  her  professor  without  shi 
ing  an  injunction,  and  devoted  hours  of  everjji^y 
to  her  piano  practice.     Bit  b^I^yi^j^e  reg:afifT< 


^SSi^ 


The  Little  Kingdom  of  Home 


c^ 


1 

the  lost  g^round.  She  entered  upon  a  new  inherit-- 
ance.  Taught  by  life  the  deeper  meanings  of 
music,  she  grew  to  be  an  interpreter  where  she 
had  been  merely  a  copyist.  Color  and  passion 
entered  her  playing,  sympathy  and  breadth  suc- 
ceeded what  had  been  cold  phrasing.  Her  soul 
grew  nobler  in  the  new  study,  and  her  home 
happier. 
I  would  utter  a  protest  against  the  waste,  the 
ithrift,  involved  in  compulsory  music-study, 
lere  there  is  no  aptitude  and  no  liking,  A  child 
^ho  cannot  overcome  her  aversion  to  the  tyranny 
enforced  musical  practice,  would  better  be  oc- 
ipied  in  g^if  or  tennis  or  gardening,  building  up 
)n^^ysique  in  outdoor  exercise,  and  leaving 
and  spiritual  discipline  music  imparts 
jed  in  some  other  and  less  improvident 

does  not  concern  itself  necessarily 

The  amateur  who  cultivates  music 

e,  doei;ii^;^^^to  this  jealous  mistress 

tting  jME^^u:^ -adoringly  bestowed  by 

St.  Laferious  days  and  devoted 

^success  in  music,  unless 


an  agreeable  rendering  of 
[394] 


somewhat  simple  compositions.  On  the  heights- 
the  view  is  fine,  but  one  cHmbs  to  reach  the 
heights,  and  is  sometimes  lonely  there.  Money 
opens  the  door  to  great  enjoyment,  the  finest 
operatic  singers  in  the  world,  and  the  finest  instru- 
mental performers,  seeking  our  golden  shores. 
On  the  whole,  an  artist  in  the  family  may  be  a 
source  of  pride,  but  would  hardly  be  an  unmixed 
blessing,  for  the  incessant  service  required  by 
music,  and  the  sensitiveness  that  accompanies 
it,  do  not  fit  the  genius  for  life  on  the  lower  levels 
of  commonplace  care. 

From  the  early  days  when  Eden's  gate  having 
been  closed  against  our  first  parents,  their  de- 
scendants went  wandering  to  and  fro  on  the  earth, 
music  has  been  the  world's  delight.  Jubal,  the 
father  of  all  such  as  handle  the  harp  and  ovga.n,  ^J^j/:.^^* 
was  among  the  favored  few  who  discovered  tb^^>"'ffjv^v' 
harmonies  in  reeds  and  rippling  waves 
branches  rocked  by  the  wind.  Earliest  poet, 
this  old  earth,  he  sat  beside  the  tent  listening,  \i 
ing,  inventing  the  divinest  thing  the  world 
ever  heard. 

An  elaborate  musical  ritual  disffiiguished  tl 
temple  service  in  the  later  days,  and  in  Babi 

[395] 


(2 


TJie  Little  Kingdom  of  Home 


they  had  orchestral  accompaniments  of  magnifi-^ 
cent  harmony,  cornet,  flute,  sackbut,  psaltery, 
and  dulcimer.  Long  before  the  Jews  were 
carried  away  captive  to  Babylon,  David,  the 
shepherd-boy  who  became  a  king,  played  on  his 
harp  to  charm  away  the  demon  of  melancholy  that 
had  fastened  upon  Saul,  and  the  moody  monarch 
heard,  and  was  saved.  Music  has  this  office  yet, 
to  soothe  pained  hearts,  and  uplift  depressed 
souls. 

A  girl  I  knew,  having  a  lovely  voice,  well- 
trained  and  sweet,  went,  for  years,  on  Sunday 
afternoons,  to  sing  to  an  old  woman  who,  also  for 
years,  lay  on  her  couch  in  an  upper  chamber, 
whence  she  was  never  to  pass  until  she  was  borne 
to  her  last  resting-place.  She  carried  to  that 
room  of  suffering  the  sweetness  of  her  voice,  and 
^  the  radiance  of  her  rarely  beautiful  personality, 
•  "saJI.ever,  as  she  came  up  the  stair  and  turned  the 
latch,  it  was  as  if  one  of  God's  angels  entered 
door.  Her  friend  was  long  since  relieved 
m  her  bondage,  and  now  she,  too,  sings  on 
.other  ,,^lj^,  where  the  song  never  ends. 
s.-^  r ,  ^^ .  .,.  .     ^  j^^i^  ^1^^^  home  music  should 

^xq'liisite  refinement.    Nothing  coarse, 

[396] 


Clothing  tawdry,  should  be  tolerated  in  fireside -^(| 
song.      With  this  limitation,   there   is  plenty  of 
music,   gay,   merry,   tender,    lilting,   and   swiftly 
appealing  to  whatever  is  best  in  the  hearts  of  those 
who  sing  or  play,  and  those  who  listen. 

If  the  laddie  has  a  fancy  for  the  mandolin  or 
the  banjo,  by  all  means  let  him  have  it.  A  boy 
is  safe  if  he  have  some  innocent  hobby,  that  keeps 
him  happy  in  his  home  evenings.  The  banjo  does 
this,  and  the  banjo,  democratic  among  instru- 
ments as  no  other  is,  may  be  carried  anywhere, 
and  costs  little.    Says  Kipling  of  this  dear  banjo: 


"Let  the  organ  moan  her  sorrow  to  the  roof  — 
I  have  told  the  naked  stars  the  grief  of  man ; 
Let  the  trumpets  snare  the  foeman  to  the  proof  — 
I  have  known  Defeat  and  mocked  it  as  we  ran. 

"The  grandam  of  my  grandam  was  the  Lyre 
(O  the  blue  below  the  little  fisher  huts !) 
That  the  Stealer  stooping  beachward  filled  with  fir 
Till  she  bore  my  iron  head  and  ringing  guts. 


•'  By  the  wisdom  of  the  centuries  I  speak, 
To  the  tune  of  yestermorn  I  set  the  truth, 
I,  the  joy  of  the  unquestiftRfid,  L 
I,  the  everlasting  wondt 


!S      The  Little  Kingdom  of  Home 


In  one  corner  of  the  home  there  will  never  be 
lack  of  music,  and  that  corner  is  the  nursery. 
Children  are  makers  of  music,  with  their  laughter 
and  their  play.  Mothers  should  sing  to  their 
babies.  It  takes  little  art  to  sing  to  an  infant, 
cuddling  it  close,  lulling  it  to  sweet  slumber,  but 
insensibly,  the  mother's  song  fills  the  small  world 
of  the  little  one  with  gladness.  They  tell  us  now 
to  lay  the  baby  in  his  cradle  wide  awake,  and  let 
jim  find  the  path  to  slumberland  as  best  he  can. 
im  still  so  old-fashioned  as  to  believe  in  rocking 
)aby  to  sleep,  and  singing  over  a  tiny  crib. 


D99] 


[40o] 


CHAPTER  XXVI. 


Second  Marriage 


YOUTH,  elate  and  confident,  scoffs  at  the 
mention  of  second  marriage,  sure  that 
love  can  exist  in  its  sacred  completeness, 
only  once.  With  doubtful  eyes,  it  surveys  the 
remarriage  of  the  man,  who  but  a  little  while 
ago  was  crushed  under  a  heavy  burden  of  grief 
and  loneliness,  who  looked  as  though  the  sun  had 
been  blotted  from  his  sky.  The  woman,  who 
marries  a  second  time,  is  equally  reprobated  by 
the  thoughtless  tongue  of  youthful  romance,  and 
when  she  exchanges  her  sombre  crape  for  a  garb 
of  gray  or  lavender,  and,  in  response  to  another 
suitor,  again  enters  on  a  career  of  wifehood,  slic 
is  often  accused  of  marrying  for  convenience 
from  a  mercenary  motive. 

The  greatest  unfairness  frequently  characte 
izes  the  attitude  of  the  romantic  outsider  who  i^ 
a   guest  or  an  observer  at  a   second 
Offering  the  usual  signs  of  friendshi 
not  hesitate  to  violate  itsJ 


comments.  A  frequent  byplay  of 
contrasts  the  brightness  of  the  second  wedding 
with  the  grief  of  the  husband  or  wife,  a  httle 
while  ago.  "  Do  you  remember,"  cries  the  pessi- 
mist, "  how  inconsolable  Harry  was,  when 
Dorothy  died,  how  he  went  every  Sunday  to  her 
grave,  and  laid  flowers  on  it,  in  snowfall  or 
pelting  rain,  not  caring  for  the  weather?  Yet 
see  how  radiant  he  is  to-day!"  Who  has  not 
jeard  this  pettiness  of  comment  a  hundred  times 
such  occasions?  The  speakers  forget  that 
[ime  creeps  slowly  in  the  house  of  mourning,  and 
lat  one  3^ear  of  grief,  leaden-footed,  is  equal  to 
iree  dan^p^' years  of  joy.  They  forget  graves 
hvn  kindred,  to  which  the  paths,  once 
idden,  are  now  grass  grown.  No 
!i|can  forever  rem.ain  in  sanctuary.  There 
be  done.  A  few  lofty  souls  may 
)piness  only  as  a  pale  memory  at 
ireside,  but  the  great  majority  must 
life,  or  their  capacity 
And  hearts  may  have 


different  lines,  and  the 
many  rooms.     Some 


[402] 


'^J 


l^ 


Second  Marriage 


>of  these  may  be  closed  and  sealed  by  the  ^^'^jA 
touch  of  death.  Tliey  may  not  be  opened  again.  ^ 
The  buoyant,  blithe  enthusiasm  of  love's  young 
dream  is  seldom  rekindled  in  the  soberer  fires  of 
a  second  attachment,  though  these  may  gleam 
and  glow  with  steadfast  heat.  Successive  loves 
in  the  home  do  not  reproach  one  another,  nor  is 
a  second  wife  less  truly  loved  than  her  prede- 
cessor was  adored.  Indeed,  though  in  each  true 
life  there  must  be  one  supreme  and  ensphered 
love,  flawless  and  unapproachable,  this  may  not 
inevitably  be  the  first.  Of  a  great  New  England 
divine,  whose  name  is  scored  deeply  on  our  re- 
ligious progress  and  history  as  a  nation,  his  biog- 
rapher says  that  he  was  the  son  of  his  father's 
''  third  and  best-loved  wife."  The  good  old  man 
was  married  five  times.  Our  Pilgrim  mothers 
died  like  frost-touched  plants.  a^^S^ 

Pioneer  life  was  hard  on  women.    The  gra'' 
yard    at    Plymouth    shows    that    many    of 
early  settlers  in  the  Massachusetts  Colony  \\ 
again  and  again  married.    They  had  little  chc 
As  their  lives  were  ordered,  they  needed  a 
A  man  is  somehow  more  depenc 
at  his  hearthstone  than  a  womj 

[403] 


The  Little  Kingdom  of  Home 


,A  widow  is  content  in  the  home  with  its  fragrant 
associations,  its  beautiful  traditions,  and  unless 
her  means  are  trodden  down  to  the  level  of  the 
lowest  penury,  she  manages  to  keep  the  wolf 
from  the  door.  She  understands  small  economies, 
and  practises  them.  If  some  husbands  could 
return  for  a  day  or  two  from  the  graves  that  hide 
them,  they  would  be  amazed  and  incredulous 
at  the  good  management  of  the  wives  whom 
they  often  declared  incapable  of  taking  charge 
of  the  most  simple  business  affairs. 

A  woman,  be  it  noted,  is  accustomed  to  living 
by  herself  through  the  day,  and  when  night  falls, 
she  sits  alone  with  her  heartache,  and  bears  it 
in  the  fortitude  that  has  come  to  her  by  inherit- 
ance. A  thousand  generations  of  women  have 
learned  to  bear  pain  with  stoicism,  and  crush  back 
unshed  tears. 

|n  the  other  hand,  a  widower,  for  many  homely 

!^ns,  needs  a  wife.     When  he  turns  his  latch- 

the  door  at  night  after  a  day's  work,  he 

its  a  welcome;    a  dear  one  who  belongs  to 

'to  greet  him  with  a  kiss  and  a  tender  look, 

itly  to  his  rumbling  growl  about 

/rong,  to  congratulate  him  sym- 

[404] 


pathetically  on  what  has  gone  right.  To  som( 
men,  a  daughter,  a  sister,  a  mother  are  sufficient 
for  this  sweetness  of  reciprocity  that  begins  at 
the  front  door,  overflows  into  the  dining-room, 
and  reaches  its  high-water  mark  in  the  after-din- 
ner graciousness  of  an  easeful  evening.  These  are 
in  the  minority.  Tlie  man  who  has  known  the 
deep,  full  satisfying  sacredness  of  a  happy  mar- 
riage, almost  always  seeks  a  second  mate.  He 
longs  for  the  content,  the  tranquillity,  that  only  the 
worshipping  husband  experiences  when  united 
with  a  thoroughly  congenial  wife.  Comradeless 
on  life's  road,  he  cannot  walk. 

A  man  desires  a  head  for  his  household,  a 
friend  at  his  fireside,  a  sensible  woman  who  at 
times  can  disagree  with  his  opinions  and  who 
can  stimulate  him  to  be  at  his  best  among  men. 
Only  a  weak  man  wants  an  echo.  Such  tyrai 
as  the  father  of  Florence  and  Paul  Dombey 
unpopular  in  America,  and  as  a  species  are 
tunately  becoming  extinct.  A  man,  howe 
energetic  in  his  proper  realm,  is  rather  helpl( 
when  confronted  with  the  small  daily  exigei]/^es 
of  buttons,  patches,  aad  new 
feet.     A   widower   wit 


•aside,  feels  compelled  to  find  somebody  to  mother  -^ 
them. 

It  is  my  firm  conviction  that  most  women 
approach  the  extremely  formidable  tasks  of  step- 
motherhood  with  a  conscientious  resolve  to  be 
equal  to  them.  The  girl,  accepting  her  lover, 
who  rather  incidentally  alludes  to  his  children 
as  in  need  of  a  mother's  care,  intends  to  be  more 
than  maternal;  she  fancies  that  she  will  be  an- 
ilic.  She  has  a  vision  of  herself  the  gentle 
leen  of  a  new  domain,  in  which  charming,  well- 
red,  and  beautifully  attired  children  shall  be 
|r  devoted  subjects.  On  her  wedding-day  she 
''chamber  before  leaving  it  to  pledge 
husband,  that  she  will  so  bear  her- 
leir  mother  in  heaven  shall  never  be 
her  children  have  come  under  another 

hat  the  best  children  in  the  world 

nalightyfits.     Boys  are  obstreperous. 

mpertii^^^^^therless  children  have 

e  interval  of  bereave- 

indulgence  of  com- 

r  by  the  ignorant  neg- 

ts.     Often  the  chil- 


,dren  bring  aversion  and  suspicion  to  the  new 
relation.  They  dread  a  stepmother,  and  are 
prepared  to  hold  their  own  against  her.  The 
older  children  refuse  to  call  her  by  the  name, 
dear  and  precious  to  them,  of  their  lost  mother, 
nor  should  she  ever  request  or  exact  this,  until 
it  is  voluntarily  accorded  by  their  love.  For 
win  love  she  must,  if  she  and  they  are  to  live 
in  peace  together  and  in  mutual  confidence. 

Children  have  a  sort  of  witch-hazel  wand 
which  enables  them  soon  to  ascertain  the  quality 
of  the  new  mother.  If  she  is  real,  sincere, 
womanly,  with  more  than  sentimental  romance 
about  her,  with  a  great  splendid  unselfishness 
as  the  bottom  fact  in  her  character,  she  will 
overcome  every  obstacle  and  gain  the  loyal  ad- 
herence of  the  children  she  mothers.  Babies  are 
easily  won.  But  the  stepmother  must  forget 
step.  She  must  be  even-tempered,  patient, 
ant,  and  just,  as  mothers  are.  Let  me  ei 
phasize  the  last  adjective.  Justice  is  the 
quality  which  cements  and  solidifies  human  rej 
tionship.  It  is  the  comer-stone  of  the  beautijj 
fully  organized  household.  On^^it^  ,qji  a  rock 
we  build  for  seairity,  fearless  (^'■^^I^^Jll^fevWinj;' 

[407]  -'^•*- 


Whoso  offendeth  one  of  these  Httle  ones,  whose 
angels  do  always  behold  the  face  of  the  Father  in 
Heaven,  incurs  a  tremendous  risk.  When  one 
thinks  of  the  love  that  goes  out  of  the  world 
when  a  mother  is  taken  from  her  children,  love 
that  is  spontaneous,  and  deep,  and  steadfast,  and 
that  counts  no  cost,  there  is  solemnity  in  daring 
to  replace  to  the  bereft  that  which  is  wholly  in- 
efifable  and  untranslatable.  To  be  negligent  of 
one's  children  thus  adopted  into  one's  heart  is 
almost  as  bad  as  to  be  cruel  to  them. 

No  vanity,  no  low  motive  of  convenience,  no 
wish  to  have  a  home  of  one's  own,  should  induce 
a  young  woman  to  become  the  wife  of  a  widower 
with  children,  unless  she  is  sure  before  God  that 
she  can  love  them. 

Stepmothers  are  surveyed  askance  by  old  serv- 
ants  and   retainers   of  the   family,   by   the   near 
tives    of    the    children    on    both    sides,    and 
Society    in    general.      If   little    Mary    is    not 
5sed  so  becomingly  as  she  might  be,  the  neigh- 
[S  set  it  down  to  her  stepmother's  grudging 
simouy^^^If  Johnny  is  forbidden  some  ordinary 
reasons  of  health  or  prudence, 
is   accused   of  harshness.      She 

[408] 


■must  walk  a  very  straight  path  if  she  would  not 
be  struck  by  random  stones.  So  far  from  being 
angelic,  she  will  be  a  fortunate  woman  if  she 
remain  decently  civil,  amid  the  animadversions 
that  will  be  her  portion  to  endure. 

Alas,  it  must  be  admitted  that  the  true  testing 
time  comes  when  a  stepmother's  own  little  ones 
arrive.  Few  women  are  wise  enough  to  dis- 
criminate with  fairness  between  two  groups  of 
children.  Without  intention,  without  their  own 
knowledge,  they  are  partial  to  their  offspring, 
and,  strangely,  are  less  so  while  the  babies  are 
little,  than  when  they  are  grown.  A  woman 
who,  in  all  sincerity,  can  maintain  absolute  justice 
toward  her  stepchildren  in  matters  that  concern 
division  of  property,  when  the  children  she  has 
borne  are  in  question,  is  a  woman  worthy  of 
honor  and  reverence. 

A  man  owes  it  to  his  home  and  to  the  w 
of  his  early  years,  to  see  that  her  children  sh 
equally    with    the    children    of   his    second    wi 
in  whatever  fortune  comes  to  him  in  later  lif 
During   their   childhood,    he   should   give 
every  advantage  that  their   juniors  receive.^or 
should  he  forget  that  hQ$aifttii^4^5^i.i^niore 


The  Little  Kingdofn  of  Home 


c^ 


.to  them  than  if  he  had  not  brought  into  his  life 
and  home  another  love  than  that  he  bore  their 
mother. 

Stepfathers  are  usually  entirely  free  from  the 
reproaches  that  blight  the  reputation  of  the  step- 
mother. Men  fit  easily  into  this  role.  No  fairy- 
tale dwells  upon  the  cruel  stepfather.  No  lyric 
in  literature  describes  the  father  stealing  from 
his  tomb  at  night  to  comb  the  tangled  hair  of 
js  ill-treated  children,  frightening  his  successor 
th  his  white  face  and  gruesome  presence.  Life 
id  literature  are  alike  kind  to  the  debonair 
itleman  who  essays  this  task.  The  reason 
^not  far  tp  seek.  If  It  were  a  mere  matter  of 
^port,  of  acting  as  umpire,  of  now 
ittering  a  command,  or  smoothing 
'ith  a  timely  jest,  a  woman  could  as 
>man  steer  clear  of  reefs.  But  the 
ive  in  the  home.  She  has  the 
ler  all  the  while.  She  does  not 
cannot  dispense  what 
ownill^lTvdded  40  this,  she  takes  her- 
and^isappointments  more 
and  therefore  finds 
his  can  ever  be. 


As  we  glance  over  the  homes  we  know,  and' 
in  candor  estimate  their  effect  for  good  on  the 
community,  we  must  not  withhold  our  meed  of 
praise  to  those  who,  a  second  or  a  third  time,  un- 
dertake the  responsibilities  of  matrimony.  There 
comes  a  period  in  some  lives  when  they  must 
advance  or  retrograde.  If  they  receive  the  right 
stimulus,  the  appropriate  companionship,  they 
will  broaden  and  improve;  if  this  is  wanting, 
they  will  degenerate. 

Granted  that  the  second  marriage,  for  obvious 
reasons,  must  involve  issues  more  complex  than 
the  first,  it  must  also  be  admitted,  that  one  or  both 
parties  to  its  contract  has  been  taught  in  the  stem 
school  of  experience.  Neither,  as  a  rule,  is  in 
the  very  earliest  morning  of  life.  Contact  with  the 
world,  knowledge  of  society,  the  breadth  and  re- 
straint that  accrue  from  meeting  men  and  womei 
and  above  all,  a  sense  of  accountability  to  Gc 
should  make  those  who  launch  into  a  secc 
marriage  equal  to  its  demands.  A  woman  sho; 
not  heedlessly  pledge  herself  to  stepmotherho< 
Having  assumed  the  duties  of  its  honorable  es 
tate,   fearlessly  and   with   sinc^<ej^tBftion,   shj 

[4"] 


^      The  Little  Kingdom  of  Home 


should  bear  herself  valiantly,  and  make  all  about 
her  forget  that  there  is  any  step  in  the  case. 

When  the  new  wife  comes  into  her  kingdom, 
it  is  not  right  that  on  every  side  she  should  meet 
tangible  tokens  of  her  who  went  before  her,  and 
who  has  finished  her  course.  The  appropriate 
arrangement  is  that  most  personal  belongings  and 
articles  especially  connected  with  the  first  wife 
or  husband  should  be  tenderly  packed  up  and 
put  away  out  of  sight.  A  certain  incongruity  is 
apparent  when  a  bride  receives  congratulations, 
standing  beneath  the  portrait  of  an  earlier  wife, 
radiant  in  shimmering  white,  and  shining  with 
gems.  "  Why  have  you  never  taken  down  the 
first  Mrs.  Smith's  picture  ? "  the  second  Mrs. 
Smith  is  asked.  "  You  cannot  like  to  have  it  oc- 
cupy the  most  conspicuous  place  in  the  drawing- 
room."  "  Nothing  would  induce  me  to  touch  it," 
le  natural  reply.  "  My  husband  seems  to  want 
?re."   Yet  it  is  improbable  that  the  good  man 

[r  gives  more  than  a  transient  glance  at  the 
Krtrait   of   her   who   was   once   his   life's   star. 

lother  sJtar^has  arisen,  and  the  first  star  has  set. 
>wever,  miss  the  picture  were  it 
its  familiar  place.     The  masculine 

^  [4.2] 


,inind  is  conservative,  and  recognizes  no  particular 
need  for  changing  things  about.  Somebody,  ]yt- 
fore  a  wife  comes  into  possession  of  a  home  that 
has  not  been  hers  from  the  beginning,  should  go 
over  it  with  care,  and  see  that  she  begins  in  a 
field  swept  clear  of  memories  that  have  nothing 
of  interest  for  her, 

I  once  read  a  clever  short  story  in  which  a 
young  wife,  at  home  for  the  first  day  after  her 
wedding-journey,  explored  her  home,  her  hus- 
band having  gone  down-town.  On  what  should 
she  happen,  but  a  letter  addressed  to  "  My  Hus- 
band's Second  Wife,"  written  by  the  first  wife 
during  her  last  illness,  and  cunningly  secreted  in 
a  bureau  drawer.  Its  tenor  was  in  the  line  of 
marching  orders,  covering  every  possible  item 
from  John's  preference  as  to  dessert  to  John's 
winter  flannels,  and  it  well-nigh  robbed  the  poor 
newcomer  of  every  shred  of  happiness 

Never  was  a  finer  testimony  given  to  a  man 
goodness  and  unfailing  power  to  glorify  his  ho 
than  in  the  witness  borne  by  his  third  wife,  Emil' 
Chubbuck,  to  the  beautiful  character  of  the  Reve 
end  Dr.  Adoniram  Judson,  a  famous  early  Arngfi 
can  missionary  to  Burm 


V; 


The  Little  Kingdom  of  Home 


i 


wife  was  Ann  Hasseltine,  a  woman  of  splendi( 
heroism  and  rare  intellectual  gifts.  His  second 
wife  was  Sarah  Boardman,  the  widow  of  another 
missionary,  spiritual,  consecrated,  beautiful,  and 
a  poet.  Said  the  third  Mrs.  Judson  in  substance, 
"  Since  I  have  been  my  husband's  wife,  I  can 
understand  how  he  won  and  held  the  love  and 
devotion  of  the  very  unusual  women  who  were 
married  to  him  before.  He  is  the  most  consid- 
rate  of  human  beings." 
Is  not  this  the  key-note  of  success  in  any  home 
e?  Whoso  is  considerate  does  not  hurt  the 
lings  of  another.  Whoso  is  considerate  does 
-rceable  things.  Whoso  is  consider- 
.rs  a  martyr's  air.  The  word  means 
izes  every  household  grace,  every  gen- 
every  renounced  prejudice, 
'ard  home-building  and  home-making 
ing  aright,  is  tO'  bring  something 
eaVeiT^^*«^eetness  into  every  passing  day. 
Failure  in  this  nrg^s-^^t-break  for  somebody, 
viccess  means  tfie^^^^mEden  in  full  bloom. 
ood  HoiiscJ^^mg^  January,  1904,  con- 
rz  very  remarkable  story  written  by  "A 
ther,"   and   caUe^4'  The   Fanning  of  a 

[414] 


spark."      It   is   so   suggestive   of  what   a  good^?; 
woman  may  do,  when  she  is  possessed  of  love 
and  discretion,  and  is  willing  to  forget  herself, 
that  I  quote  it  here. 

"  The  care  of  a  *  seemingly  deficient  child  '  de- 
volved upon  me  when  he  was  three  years  old. 
Up  to  that  time  he  had  not  been  taught  even  the 
most  elemental  points  in  the  care  of  his  body  or 
personal  cleanliness.  He  would  sit  for  hours 
silent  and  motionless,  not  so  much  from  imbe- 
cility as  from  mental  indolence,  apparently. 

"  As  he  grew  he  seemed  to  be  wholly  devoid 
of  moral  perception,  absolutely  ignorant  of  the 
difference  between   right  and   wrong.     He   had 
no  desire  to  be  bad,  fortunately,  but  if  he  had  had 
such  tendencies,  he  had  no  restraining  conscience. 
Lacking  this,  there  was  danger  of  his  leaning  too  ^ 
heavily  on  my  dictum,  and  leaving  all  responsk-''^^ 
bility  on  my  authority.     Hence,  there  was  ne^" 
of  guarding  myself  as  closely  as  I  watched  hi'm.  * 
and   I  was  especially  careful  never  to  give  "^^a 
express  command,  but  in  all  cases  to  sav,  '  Thuiti  -~ 
a  bit,  would  it  be  best  to  do  this  way  ?  '     Th^ 
I  did  to  develop  a  power  to  judge<of  the  relation 
of  cause  to  effect.  ^i^  :^-- 

[4'J] 


When  he  went  to  school  I  obeyed  my  in- 
variable rule  never  to  criticize  a  teacher  in  a 
child's  presence,  and  when  he  complained,  as  he 
sometimes  did,  —  though  I  was  overjoyed  to 
see  that  he  thought  enough  to  care,  —  I  would 
say,  '  Your  teacher  never  means  to  be  unjust,  and 
is  mistaken  perhaps.'  He  grew  to  be  reasonable 
in  that  way. 

"  Once  I  observed  him  sitting  quiet  and  grow- 
ing alarmingly  pale.  I  waited  to  learn  the  cause. 
He  was  a  nervous  child,  and  sympathy  or  ques- 
tions would  often  make  him  sick,  when  other- 
wise he  would  have  been  quite  well.  So  I  always 
waited,  but  without  his  cognizance  watched  him 
very  closely.  Suddenly,  he  said,  *  Do  you  think 
it  fair  for  teacher  to  mark  me  a  dead  failure  in 
arithmetic  when  every  example  gave  a  correct 
answer  ?  ' 

No,'    I    replied,    '  but    do   you    think    your 
ler  really  intended  to  be  unfair  ?  ' 
"He  answered,  promptly,  '  No,  I  don't  really 
ik  she  did,  but  I  think  she  was  wrong.' 
''So  do  I,'  I  said.     '  Now  let's  try  to  think 


e  this,  '  I  did  every  example,  and 


[416] 


'got  the  right  answers,  but  I  did  them  by  your 
method,  and  because  the  class  used  a  different 
method,  she  marked  me  a  failure.' 

"  Instantly  I  got  my  clue,  and  suggested  to 
him  how  the  mistake  might  have  occurred.  He 
was  so  reasonable  he  acquiesced  at  once,  and 
when  I  said,  '  I'll  explain  to  your  teacher,'  he  was 
perfectly  satisfied.  The  result  was  the  teacher 
saw  it  as  we  did,  was  convinced  of  her  mistake, 
and  paid  him  a  high  compliment. 

"  In  his  school  I  kept  him  back  one  year  in  the 
intermediate  department,  and  after  he  went  into 
the  grammar  school  was  also  able  to  duplicate 
a  year  in  one  of  the  rooms,  but  I  did  not  do  this 
without  his  consent. 

"  I  said,  '  I'd  rather  you  would  stay  back  a  year 
if  you  are  willing,  but  I  know  how  attractive 
promotion  looks  to  you  boys,  and  I  won't  insist 
He  stayed  back,  and  one  night,  after  consultii 
me  concerning  a  puzzling  problem  in  his  aritj 
metic,  he  closed  his  book,  saying,  '  I  think  I  cj 
safely  say   I   understand  every  example   as   faj 
as  I  have  gone,  and  now  I'm  glad  I  duplicat 
this  year.' 

"  Not   being   familiar 


it- 

V 


method  of  '  doing  examples,'  I  had  no  tempta— ''([^1 
tion  to  do  the  wiork  for  him.  I  could  only  point 
out  the  principle;  and  he,  grasping  that,  could 
apply  his  own  method.  Thus  it  happened  that 
at  final  examinations  he  ranked  number  one  in 
his  room,  and  came  to  me  in  wondering  amaze- 
ment, saying,  '  I  don't  understand  it !  I've  never 
ranked  higher  than  fourth  in  my  class  during  the 
term,  there  being  three  pupils  who  always  stood 
ihtv  than  I,  yet  now  in  final  examinations  I 
et  ahead  of  those  three.' 

Well,'  I  replied,  *  you  now  see  the  advantage 

constantly  "  dinging  "  at  you  to  think.' 

le  said,  '  I  guess  that's  the  explana- 

id  it  was.     Had  he  been  what  we  call 

boy,'  I  naturally  should  have  trusted 

fcive  intelligence  as  most  people  do,  but, 

^  mental  needs,   I  struggled  toward 

it  of  dormant  faculties. 

the  time,  came  for  him  to  go  into  *  the 

foom,'  ;^^9g^^iijyself  unwilling  to  sub- 

>f  a  man  whose  moral 

commafifd  my  respect,  I  moved 

passed  to  association 

tnced  him  rapidly,  and 


finally  advised  him  to  '  jump  a  year,'  and  enter^A 
the  high  school.  This  he  did,  ranking  fourth 
in  a  class  of  seventy.  Yet  he  was  what  is  usu- 
ally called  a  dull  boy,  and  but  for  careful  develop- 
ment would  probably  have  been  actually  what 
many  called  him  —  imbecile.  He  was  not,  in  any 
sense,  bright,  active,  or  quick-witted.  Neither 
was  he  fond  of  books. 

"  In  his  earlier  childhood  I  spent  hours  play- 
ing hide  the  thimble,  or  toss  and  catch  with  him, 
because   when    looking    for   any    lost    article    he 
seemed    absolutely    incapable    of    judging    what 
might  be  a  possible  place  for  it,  but  drifted  about 
vaguely,  and  gazed  at  the  ceiling  for  what  was 
probably  on  the  floor.     I  shed  tears  of  joy  the 
first  time  I  ever  saw  him  play  with  playthings. 
He  was  then  eight  years  old,  and  was  led  into  «^ 
it  by  an  older  boy,  but  he  was  really  playii 
He  seemed   to  lack   the   power  of   imaginati^ 
which  made  toys  interesting.     He'd  get  his  t^ 
out  when  told  to  do  so,  but  no  play  was  spor 
neous.     Therefore,   I  have  said,   I  played 
him,  and  believing  that  *  catching '  was  one 
the  best  ways  to  develop  a  quicl^s^e^^^^rompt^ 

[419] 


-responsive  muscles,  I  played  toss  and  catch  with  J^ 
him. 

"  Such  was  his  habit  of  silence  that  he  once 
said  to  me,  '  I  wish  I  had  the  "  gift  of  gab."  ' 
Then  I  told  him  to  cultivate  it,  and  told  him 
how.  His  success  may  be  guessed  when  I  say 
that  in  a  Western  town,  before  he  was  twenty-one, 
he  figured  as  '  the  boy  preacher,'  in  a  denomina- 
tion famed  for  rejecting  written  sermons. 

"  But  the  one  thing  I  like  best  to  remember, 
now  that  he  has  '  passed  on,'  is  this :  When  past 
thirty,  he  said  to  me  in  the  presence  of  others, 
*  I  can  never  thank  you  enough  for  not  allowing 
me  to  carry  my  hands  in  my  pockets.'  His  mature 
judgment  approved  my  seeming  intolerance,  and 
his  manly,  voluntary  avowal  was  a  source  of 
great  pride  and  gratification  to  me.  My  '  non 
compos  '  boy  w-as  now  a  man,  and  one  friend 
knew  him  from  the  first  said,  *  You'll  never 
r^our  life  a  failure  when  you  look  at  that 


[420] 


[4^1] 


[422] 


The  Place  of  the  Spinster 


W 


HAT  India  needs,"  wrote  a  mis- 
sionary from  her  field,  in  a  moment 
of  desperation,  "  is  a  large  con- 
tingent of  contented  spinsters."  Hindu  women 
marry  in  their  earliest  girlhood,  and  few  of  them 
are  free  to  serve  as  teachers  in  schools,  or  in  any 
capacity  beyond  their  homes.  The  spinster  will 
probably  find  her  way  before  long  into  Hindu 
civilization,  and  she  will  come  in  the  wake  of 
the  factory  and  the  mill,  which  are  in  these  days 
calling  women  in  the  East  to  daily  toil,  and  up- 
setting all  previous  conceptions  and  traditions. 
But  she  has  not  as  yet  appreciably  modified 
life  of  that  mysterious  land,  so  different  irdf 
ours.  There  girls  are  still  married  in  childhoc 
and  are  old  women  when  we  are  in  our  prime. 

"  Oh,  East  is  East,  and  West  is  West, 
And  never  the  twain  shall  meet 
Till  earth  and  sky  stand  pr^( 
At  God's  great  judgment  se 


The  Little  Kingdom  of  Home 


In  the  Western  scheme  of  things,  spinsterhood. 
has  ahvays  had  its  inherent  vakie,  but  until  lately 
there  has  often  been  in  the  condition  a  subcon- 
scious feeling  of  reproach.  To  be  an  old  maid 
was  considered  most  pitiable  in  days  as  recent 
as  the  earlier  time  of  such  a  poet  as  Holmes,  who 
wrote  a  bantering  verse  about  "  My  aunt,  my  dear 
unmarried  aunt."  Whittier  treated  the  spinster 
with  a  rarer  chivalry,  and  etched  her  portrait 
in  occasional  lines,  full  of  fine  spirituality.  But 
take  it  all  in  all,  the  nobility  of  the  spinster 
was  in  literature  a  fact  that  the  British  novelist 
refused  to  accept,  deriving  his  conclusions  from 
the  common  and  open  striving  of  the  British 
mother  to  settle  her  daughters  in  life.  This  un- 
concealed endeavor  was  characteristic  of  other 
lands  than  England,  and  in  every  country  where 
parents  arranged  marriages,  and  daughters  were 
)awns  on  the  chess-board  of  fate,  spinsterhood 
naturally  regarded  as  a  reproach,  the  unde- 
}d  girl  being  a  little  like  a  piece  of  goods,  left 
'er  and  neglected  on  the  bargain-counter, 
''ith  us,  the  background  of  marriage  is  almost 
le  personal  equation. 
Jle  marry  primarily  for  love,  and 

[424] 


parents  acquiesce  when  sons  and  daughters  hav^ 
settled  their  affairs.  Contented  spinsters  and  con- 
tented bachelors  are  much  more  numerous  than 
we  could  wish,  from  a  combination  of  causes  and 
circumstances.  With  increasing  wealth,  city  life 
makes  pro\nsion  for  the  comfortable  living  of 
bachelors  in  apartments  where  they  have  every 
luxury,  and  little  responsibility,  if  they  have  the 
wherewithal  to  pay  the  bills  of  janitor,  valet, 
and  cook.  Young  women,  engrossed  in  congenial 
tasks,  students,  journalists,  artists,  teachers,  unite 
in  making  a  home  for  themselves,  a  half-dozen  or 
more  cooperating  in  very  dainty  housekeeping, 
and  sharing  expenses. 

With  the  acquisition  of  a  college  diploma,  many 
girls  are  indifferent,  if  not  reluctant,  in  their  atti- 
tude to  marriage.  Love  may  seize  them  from 
some  ambuscade,  and  carry  them  suddenly  caj 
tive,  or,  after  a  long  and  ardent  siege,  tl 
may  capitulate  to  an  eager  suitor,  but  they 
no  special  wish  to  marry.  They  do  earne? 
long  for  a  career,  for  a  chance  to  try  their  wea^ 
ons,  to  see  what  they  can  attain  to,  professional 
And  everywhere,  the  unmarried  girl  is  not^pfrily 
wanted,  but  clamored  fc 


The  Little  Kingdom  of  Home 


c^ 


She  is  needed  in  our  colleges  at  home,  to  teach^ 
languages,  political  economy,  physical  culture, 
sociology,  advanced  mathematics,  and  whatever 
else  a  liberal  curriculum  includes.  Kindergart- 
ners  are  urgently  needed  around  the  globe.  A  cry 
comes  for  physicians  and  nurses  from  every  cor- 
ner of  the  Far  East.  The  woman  who  has  talent, 
education,  and  consecration,  who  is  detached  from 
family  obligations,  and  able  to  devote  time  and 
^rength  to  any  phase  of  altruistic  work,  is  in 
miand,  and  worth  much  in  this  restless  and 
[ushing  age.  A  single  woman,  between  her 
i^'enty-fifth  and  her  fifty-fifth  year,  has  no  reason 
dread  th^^gma  of  old  maid.  It  will  never  be 
ler  in  an  opprobrious  sense,  if  she  is, 
virgin,  with  oil  in  her  lamp,  burning 
[steady  flame  for  the  redemption  of  the 
darkness. 
:h  women  as  Mary  Louise  Booth 
^illard  have  made  noble  and  saintly 
iter.  Florence  Nightin- 
ve  immortalized  it,  as 
d  the  hospital.  Helen 
Qed  it  with  a  diadem  of 
-atin^iving,  and  unostenta- 


ion  of 
Clara 


[4.6] 


tioiis  charity  and  patriotism.     In  art,  in  letters,  in_^v^ 
distinguished  services  of  every  kind  for  humanity, 
the  spinster  has  written  her  name  high  on  a  stain- 
less scroll. 

But  in  lowly  ministries  in  obscure  homes,  the 
spinster's  mission  is  not  less  a  definite  and  dig- 
nified one.    Thrice  blessed  is  the  household  which 
has  a  maiden  cousin,  aunt,  or  sister,  ever  at  leisure, 
ever  ready  to  fill   in  a  gap,  and  ever  youthful 
enough  to  understand  and  condone  the  impetuos- 
ity and  the  rash  judgments  of  the  young.     The 
spinster,  having  no  man  of  her  own  to  whom  she 
must  defer,  whose  opinions  may  be  supposed  to 
color  hers,  and  to  whose  daily  requisitions  she 
must  conform,  has  time  to  be  pleasing  to  all  men, 
or,  at  least,  to  pay  to  all  the  compliment  of  listen- 
ing to  their  anecdotes,  and  assenting  to  their  con-   <^v;^^ 
elusions.     Relatively,  though  not  immature,  s\  '^"''"  "^'^^ 
continues  youthful  longer  than  her  married  sist^ 
whose  boys  and  girls  so  soon  shoot  up  from  baj 
hood  to  adolescence. 

A  single  woman,  who  has  independent  me? 
may  lead  a  very  delightful  life  after  she  has  passe 
her  fortieth  birthday,   and   frajjlci^^^nitted  tc 
herself  the  idea  that  she  may  hell 

[427] 


The  Little  Kingdom  of  Home 


Ci. 


She  is  right  if  she  prefer  to  have  an  individual^ 
home,  imless  she  have  parents  whose  stay  and  con- 
solation in  their  dechning  years  she  happens  to  be. 
To  reside  under  the  roof  of  a  brother  or  sister 
as  an  appendage  to  another  circle,  is  a  mistake. 
Let  her  go  to  her  kindred  whenever  they  want 
her,  but  with  the  pleasant  knowledge  that  she  has 
her  separate  home,  to  which  she  may  retire  at 
will.  With  a  maid,  or  a  friend  to  accompany  her, 
the  spinster  may  travel,  explore,  dwell  in  tents 
in  the  desert,  or  in  a  cot  by  the  northern  sea.  She 
may  be  a  Lady  Bountiful,  scattering  blessings 
broadcast,  or  a  princess,  dispensing  favors  with 
her   smiles. 

The  spinster  who  is  poor,  may  be  as  independ- 
ent as  the  other,  so  long  as  she  has  health.     But 
health  means  so  much  in  her  case,  that  she  should 
not   waste    it   by   any   thriftless    expenditure    of 
ngth  that  should  be  jealously  economized  as 
ve    capital.      In    business    and    professional 
Iks,  her  place  is  assured,  and  the  young  people 
o  grow  up  to  love  her,  have  in  their  hearts  a 
derr^s^x^t  dissimilar  to  the  affection  given 
rs. 
edHhat  the  elderly  spinster  may  be  a 

[428] 


jersonage,   while  the  elderly   bachelor   is  like  a  ^^^ 
sparrow  alone  on  the  housetop. 

A  sense  of  obligation  shirked,  hangs  about  the 
man  who  has  never  taken  to  himself  a  wife.  With 
a  woman  who  has  never  accepted  an  offer,  there 
is  an  unspoken  sense  of  queenly  isolation.  It  is 
taken  for  granted  that  a  woman  has  remained 
single  under  protest  from  her  admirers,  wdiile  a 
man,  supposably,  has  done  so  from  mere  selfish- 
ness. This  is  not  true,  of  course,  in  every  instance. 
Men  deny  themselves  the  pleasures  and  dignities 
of  happy  marriage,  that  they  may  educate 
younger  brothers,  or  care  for  helpless  relatives, 
and  there  are  those  who,  vowed  to  the  church, 
are  celibate  from  principle.  And  women  there 
are,  pure  as  the  snow^s,  whom  no  man  has  ever 
approached  with  the  breath  of  desire.    - 

Of   spinsterhood    deliberately    set   apart    fror 
the  world,  and  devoted  to  religion,  the  sever' 
orders  of  the  Roman  Catholic  Church,  Sisters 
Charity,  of  whom  the  w^orld  is  not  worthy,  at 
eminent  examples.     There  are  Protestant  sister^ 
hoods,  also,  vowed  to  lonely  lives  of  heroic  se^ 
ice.      These    women,    deyoted    to    .Christ, 
fearlessly  into  fever  Wc 


The  Little  Kingdom  of  Home 


•tals,  care  for  incurable  patients  suffering  with 
loathsome  maladies  that  follow  after  war  has 
done  its  horrid  work,  healing  and  helping  as  they 
may.  Some  of  these  virginal  women  are  vowed 
to  lives  of  prayer,  are  recluses,  never  entering 
the  world  they  have  left,  and  who  knows  the  good 
their  prayers  do?  "  More  things  are  wrought 
by  prayer  than  the  world  dreams  of." 

God  ever  bless  them  all,  the  little  sisters  of 
poor. 

le  seamy  side  of  the  spinster's  position,  in 

Jo  many  homes,  is  that  she  is  never  grown  up 

ofjier  family.     A  woman,  not  natu- 

or  disposed  to  self-assertion,  is 

tutelage  and  authority  long  after  she 

years  that  should  give  her  independ- 

may  be  a  daughter  at  home,  with  no 

as  she  asks  for  it,  or  it  is  given  her 

I   have  known  women  nearly 

ore  liberty  than  they  had  at 

mother    will    hold    in 

forty-eight  and  fifty, 

ispute  her  word  than 

ried  woman,  who  has 

she  has  ever  decided 


anything  for  herself,  is  hke  a  shrivelled  rosebudX^ 
Never  can  she  hope  to  unfold.    The  day  of  bloom 
and  expansion  is   forever  past  for  her. 

It  is  humiliating  to  be  treated  as  a  child,  when 
one  is  older  than  one's  schoolmates,  who  have 
grown  children  in  their  homes.  To  ask  if  one 
may  make  a  visit,  or  take  a  journey,  or  buy  a 
gown,  or  give  a  tea-party,  is  mortifying,  though 
consent  be  graciously  accorded  to  the  plea.  The 
adult  woman  of  mature  age  should  not  be  com- 
pelled to  ask  such  privileges,  if  she  be  a  daugh- 
ter  at    home. 

As  a  matter  of  right,  such  a  woman,  under  her 
father's  roof,  should  have  one  of  three  thinsfs: 
wages  for  her  services,  an  allowance  to  cover  her 
necessary  expenses,  or  carte  blanche  to  do  as  she 
pleases  with  her  father's  money,  unchecked  and^<^^^§^^, 
unreproved.     Neither,  as  a  rich  man's  or  a  pc 
man's  child,  should  she  be  kept  in  the  position  oi 
penniless  dependent. 

For  her  future's  sake,  the  spinster  should  oa^-Mi^ 
tivate  breadth  of  vision  and  many  interests.    Sfle    r— ^' 
may  have  pets,  plants,  fads,  hobbies,  but  none  or  ^ 
these  should  be  her  sole  resour^^^^^i^j^an  cai 
not  pour  out  her  whole  being  oSf 

[43.]    • 


•a  flower,  a  camera,  or  a  prize  poultry-yard.  As 
a  barrier  against  the  incursions  of  desolate  days, 
that  may  come  when  her  kindred  are  gone,  she 
should  make  and  keep  friends  among  people  of 
various  pursuits.  One's  friends  must  not  all  be 
of  one's  own  kind,  or  of  only  one  kind.  There 
are  those  everywhere  who  may  be  bound  by  ties  of 
strong  affection  to  a  friendly  soul,  and  in  some 
emergency,  some  rainy  day,  they  may  light  a 
torch  to  cheer  the  wayfarer  on. 

The  best  counsel  I  can  give  my  spinster  friend 
is  to  be  like  "  My  Kate "  in  Mrs.  Browning's 
sweet  verse,  — 

<'  'Twas  her  thinking  of  others 
Made  you  think  of  her." 

The  woman  without  ties,   who  stands  alone, 

should   look  about  her  for  some  other  woman, 

illy  solitary,  and  try  if,  in  some  way,  they  may 

join  their  forces.    The  income,  inadequate  for 

[,  may  be  supplemented  by  the  addition  of  an- 

small  stipend,  so  that  it  will  make  a  sufli- 

for  two. 

^omen,  who  have  arrived  at  mid- 
it  travel,  without  experiences  other 

[432] 


Ahan  those  belonging  to  their  native  town,  may,- 
by  a  httle  planning,  see  something  of  the  greater 
world,  and  at  a  comparatively  trifling  expense. 
In  the  twentieth  century,  travel  is  not  the  monop- 
oly of  the  rich.  Any  one  who  studies  ways  and 
means,  may  travel  in  respectability,  and  without 
spending  more  than  a  slender  purse  affords,  if  she 
is  brave  enough  to  undertake  the  enterprise. 
Here,  too,  a  sisterly  friend  doubles  the  pleasure 
and  halves  the  expense. 

These  are  not  the  days  when  women  leave 
mental  culture  behind  them  when  they  are  out 
of  the  schoolroom.  Tlianks  to  the  reading 
matter  everywhere  obtainable,  and  to  the  influence 
of  women's  clubs,  which  are  postgraduate  schools 
for  the  middle-aged,  the  opportunities  for  intel- 
lectual growth  are  multiplied.  A  persistent, 
resolute  struggle  with  a  new  study,  a  valiai 
tussle  with  a  foreign  language,  a  concentrated  ai 
intense  effort  to  understand .  something  hitherj 
unknown  in  science  or  mathematics,  will  bei 
better  freshener  and  a  greater  beautifier  to  th] 
spinster,  half-way  on  her  life-journey,  than  c^ 
metics,  or  other  recipes  for  remaining  youn| 
When  one  has,  by  ps 


The  Little  Kingdom  of  Home 


!% 


.ance,  acquired  an  accomplishment  or  an  art,  has 
made  an  advance  in  botany  or  geology,  or  any 
other  department,  it  is  wisdom's  part  to  hold  on 
to  it  firmly.  Unused  tools  rust.  Unused  talents 
lose  their  value.  The  finest  mind  may  be  atro- 
phied by  idleness.  A  woman,  married  or  single, 
should  be  charming  to  her  latest  day,  and  she 
cannot  be  this  unless  she  is  interested  in  things 
about  her,  and  able  to  put  her  likings  and  apti- 
^des  to  good  use. 

lie  most  popular  and  admired  woman  in  a 

[stidious  and  distinguished  circle,  is  one  whose 

ssence  in  any  room  is  an  illumination.     Around 

men  of  letters,  artists,  soldiers 

len ;   she  is  queen  of  a  brilliant  coterie. 

)re  her.     She  is  in  no  sense  a  man's 

is  rather  a  woman  beloved  by  her 

^d  believed  in  by  the  other.    No  longer 

gained   beauty   with   the  years. 

Back   in  her  winsome   girlhood, 

le   tender   love,   early 

^paration.      An    ideal 

'has   never  been,   her 

s^r  replaced.    But  of  this 

re.    She  is  never  un- 


lappy,  and  never  so  happy  as  when  bringing  her 
welcome  presence  to  a  betrothal  or  a  wedding. 
She  loves  children,  and  is  always  having  them 
about  her.  Santa  Claus  finds  his  way  to  her  home, 
and  little  stockings  hang  around  her  chimney; 
little  stockings  that  fit  little  rosy  feet  that  she 
sometimes  kisses,  as  she  tucks  them  up  at  night. 
God  gave  her  the  mother  heart,  but  she  must  pour 
its  wealth  of  love  on  the  children  of  other  women. 
Not  all  who  bear  babes  have  the  true  maternal 
impulse  that  bourgeons  in  spinster  lives.  This 
benignant  woman,  who  is  the  inspiration  and  joy 
of  many  homes,  is  not  to  be  compassionated, 
although  she  is  an  old  maid. 


[435] 


[437] 


'HEN  the  worldling,  sick  at  heart, < 
Lifts  his  soul  above, 
When  the  prodigal  looks  back 
To  his  father's  love, 
iWhen  the  proud  man,  from  his  pride, 
^Stoops  to  seek  thy  face, 
Hear  then,  in  love,  O  Lord,  the  cry- 
In  heaven,  thy  dwelling-place  on  high. 


[438] 


CHAPTER  XXVIII. 


Prodigal  Sons 


NO  story  in  the  whole  realm  of  literature 
is  more  touching-  than  the  parable  of  our 
Saviour  in  which  he  tells  of  the  way- 
ward boy,  taking  the  portion  of  goods  that  was 
his  by  right,  and  journeying  to  a  far  country, 
where  he  wasted  his  substance  in  riotous  liv- 
ing. And  when  he  had  spent  all,  and  was  re- 
duced to  famine  and  to  the  husks  that  the  swine 
did  eat,  he  looked  back  to  the  far  land  and  the 
father's  house,  where  was  bread  enough  and  to 
spare,  and  said,  "  I  will  arise  and  go  to  my 
father." 

Among  the  most  crushing  agonies  of  hut 
experience,  is  the  carrying  a  load  of  grief 
care   which   must   be  hidden   from   the  eyes^ 
friends  and  neighbors.     When  a  sorrow  is  re; 
and  wears  the  purple,  it  may  be  borne  prou« 
although  it  rend  the  heart.    But  when  it  is  mean! 
clad  and  lurks  out  of  sight,  ar 
of  shame,  it  is  harder  to  enc 

[439] 


TJie  Little  Kingdom  of  Home 


household  of  the  stricken,  there  are  those  who 
plant  flowers  on  lowly  graves,  and  garland,  with 
asphodel,  a  vacant  chair.  There  are  others  who 
firmly  repress  the  moan  of  anguish,  who  wear  no 
crape,  who  never  allude  to  the  empty  place  at  the 
table,  the  missing  one  in  the  home  group.  His 
name  may  be  forbidden  there.  A  stern  father, 
relentless,  though  wounded  to  the  core,  has  pro- 
hibited any  mention  of  the  absent  son.  To  the 
family  it  is  as  if  he  were  dead.  The  mother  weeps 
In  the  night.  She  never  forgets  him  in  her  pray- 
ers. There  are  homes  where  a  light,  literally,  burns 
in  a  window  for  years,  that  haply  it  may  guide  the 
faltering  feet  of  some  home-retuming  prodigal. 
Should  he  come  home,  from  the  far  country,  as 
far  from  home's  purity  and  peace  as  sin  is  from 
heaven,  the  father's  heart,  as  surely  as  the 
mother's  would  melt  at  his  contrition. 

lit  too  often  the  erring  child  lingers  in  the 

refusing  to  return,   hearing  no  call   of 

aware  of  no  mood  of  penitence,  and  satis- 

with  the  famine-bread.    Or  it  may  be  that  he 

The  grim  penitentiaries  that  shut 

tchedness  and  dreary  discourage- 

Sr  walls,  are  not  filled  only  with 

[440] 


.tlie  flotsam  and  jetsam  of  the  swarming  tene- 
ments, with  the  offscouring  of  the  earth,  with 
men  bred  to  the  profession  of  the  criminal.  Re- 
fined and  educated  sons  of  good  fathers,  of  good 
mothers,  are  there,  men  who  took  the  portion  that 
fell  to  them,  strayed  into  dens  of  vice,  fore- 
gathered with  iniquity,  and  consorted  at  last  with 
the  swine.  Every  such  man,  locked  at  night  into 
a  narrow  cell,  suffers  not  in  solitude,  though  it 
may  seem  so  to  him.  Wherever  his  home  is, 
hearts  are  crucified  with  his,  and  the  deeper  is 
the  heartache  that  hope  has  been  abandoned,  and 
love  can  make  no  outcry,  and  utter  no  protest. 

A  family,  apparently  blessed  with  every  gift  a 
kind  fortune  can  bestow,  conceals  from  kindred 
and  the  world  its  anxiety  over  a  wayward  lad, 
who  has  yielded  to  temptation  and  fallen.  Per- 
haps through  his  social  gifts,  perhaps  through  a^ 
weak  will,  perhaps  through  a  vacillating  purpos 
the  youth  has  lost  his  first  integrity.  Evil  com- 
munications corrupt  good  manners,  and  b| 
companions  are  the  bane  of  boys  who  start  on 
road  with  brilliant  talents  and  fine  equipmei 
Some  homes  are  too  rigid.  Sons  and  dauerhllftrs 
are  governed  so  strictly 


art  of  self-government,  and  as  soon  as  they  are 
emancipated  from  restraint,  fall  a  prey  to  the 
tempter.  Whatever  be  the  provocation,  the  home 
has  no  right  forever  to  cast  off  and  disavow  one 
who  is  its  cliild. 

More  wrecks  on  the  shore  of  fate  are  due  to 
intemperance  than  to  any  other  single  cause. 
With  saloons  blazing  an  invitation  on  every  street 
corner,  offering  warmth,  cheer,  good-fellowship, 
id  cordiality  to  the  young  man  tired  with  a  hard 
ly's  toil,  and  having  little  to  make  him  contented 
the  apology  for  a  home  which  is  all  the  poorest 
^ve,  it  is  no  wonder  that  drunkenness  is  the  curse 
the  laJ^i^Tng  and  the  little-educated  classes, 
^pushes  open  the  door,  steps  in,  finds 
who  chat  of  politics  or  of  the  latest 
sensation,  puts  down  his  nickel  or  his 
ikes  his  glass ;  the  husband,  paid  off, 
/ages  that  mean  shoes  and  bread 
and^the  patient  wife.  No  pen  can 
id  misery  that  intem- 
Into  the  bartender's 
^If-respect,  and  the  last 
leant  the  needs  of  life 
to  support.    Worse 


than  this,  the  stuff  taken  in  the  saloon  puts  mur- 
der in  the  hearts  of  men  who,  when  sane,  are  kind 
and  loving.  Three-fourths  of  the  crimes  of 
brutality  are  committed  by  men  under  the  domina- 
tion of  vile  liquor. 

Not  to  the  poor  and  illiterate  are  prodigal  sons 
confined.  Men  born  with  the  golden  spoon, 
wrapped  in  finest  linen,  and  taught  in  finest 
schools,  yield  to  an  insidious  craving,  and  become 
debased  and  degraded. 

A  race  of  stalwart,  sturdy,  moderate-drinking 
men  by  degrees  degenerates,  loses  moral  tone  and 
fibre,  and  its  last  representative,  taking  what 
seems  an  innocent  drink  at  a  class  dinner,  or  at 
a  friendly  table,  in  company  with  gracious  ma- 
trons and  lovely  maidens,  is,  from  that  instant, 
lost.  Down-hill  roads  are  smooth  and  slippery. 
Before  he  has  had  time  to  fear  peril,  there  is 
leashed,  in  this  victim  of  past  indulgence,  a 
beast,  in  the  form  of  tyrannical  appetite  that 
be  indulged,  or  it  will  tear  him  to  pieces, 
would  better  be  torn  and  die  at  once,  but  he 
not  comprehend  the  danger  or  the  despotisil 
The  drink  itself  is  not  what  he^i8i2fifei4R.it  the 
citement.  the  dream-world,  the 

[443] 


The  Little  Kingdom  of  Home 


f 


the  subtle  gladness  that  steals  through  brain  and  J^ 
nerves.  Most  piteous  is  the  condition  of  the 
periodical  debauchee,  who  may,  and  often  does, 
continue  perfectly  sober  for  weeks  and  months. 
Then  a  day  dawns  when  a  whiff  from  a  wine- 
glass, a  faint  flavor  in  a  sauce,  the  breath  blown 
out  from  an  open  door  as  he  passes  on  the  street, 
carries  him  captive,  and  he  is  gone.  I  have  known 
such  a  man,  young,  rich,  of  commanding  pres- 
ence, of  chivalrous  nature,  of  debonair  manner, 
transformed  by  this  enslaving  passion,  three  and 
four  times  a  year,  into  something  demoniac. 
Neither  love,  nor  remorse,  nor  science,  nor  human 
skill  can  save  a  man  drawn  inch  by  inch  into  this 
quicksand  of  despair.  One  only  power  can  save 
the  periodical  and  inveterate  inebriate,  and  that  is 
the  converting  grace  of  God. 

As   from   a   woman   is   expected   moral   force 

stronger,  and  purity  more  invincible  than  from 

)an,    woman    more    than    man    conserving 

lignity  and  establishing  the  enduring  excel- 

^e  of  the  home,  a  woman's  fall  is  a  more  sur- 

and  ^more  grievous  thing  than  a  man's. 

^rfatal  spell  of  a  passion  for  intoxicants, 

a  queenly  woman  brought  so  low  that 

^      [444] 


she  has  reeled  in  the  gutter,  that  she  has  resorted 
to  every  shameful  expedient  to  secure  the  poison 
that  was  killing  her  womanhood,  and  have  at  last 
stood  beside  her  coffin,  grateful  with  her  relatives 
that  the  tragedy  was  ended  by  the  mercy  of  death. 

Home  itself  should  be  the  bulwark  against 
tampering  with  anything  so  deadly.  As  well  open 
the  door  and  let  the  hooded  cobra  glide  in,  as 
habitually  serve  wine  on  the  family  board,  to  the 
possible  ruin  of  some  one,  child  or  guest,  who  has 
a  right  to  a  fair  start  and  no  handicaps.  That 
social  drinking  among  us  is  on  the  increase,  and 
that  women  not  only  condone,  but  engage  in  it, 
is  mournfully  apparent  at  this  time.  Home  teach- 
ing and  home  training  should  erect  barriers, 
should  create  a  convincing  sentiment,  which  can- 
not be  thrown  down  or  controverted. 

Equally  the  home  currents  should  set  steadily^ 
against  dangerous  and  baleful  meddling  with  p 
nicious  drugs,  opiates,  narcotics,  and  nerve  stimu 
lants.     By  imperceptible  but  steady  degrees, 
opium  habit  binds  its  victims  hand  and  foot,  bein 
if  anything,  more  fatal  in  its  effects  and 
hopeless  in  its  despotism  than  the  alcohol  h 
Language  halts  at  the  irtltclequacy,,iii>l5its  .^yr^bci'lfe 


The  Little  Kingdom  of  Home 


m 


q  portray  the  inferno  which  yawns  for  those 
who  have  fallen  under  this  weird  and  pitiless 
tyranny.  They  begin  by  taking  an  injection  of 
morphia  to  dull  pain,  or  the  infinitesimal  fraction 
of  a  grain  to  still  a  gnawing  agony,  or  rout  a 
dreary  insomnia,  and  little  by  little,  the  creeping 
horror  gets  them  in  its  clutches.  At  a  great  price, 
some  are  redeemed.  For  one  who  is  snatched 
from  the  vortex,  hundreds  perish  miserably. 

If,  through  any  mischance,  a  member  of  one's 

'f^ily   has    fallen   by   the   wayside,    the    famil}^ 

rt  should  be  to  reform  and  restore  him,  and 

hield  him  from  the  world's  criticism  and  from 

lie  knowleig-e  of  his  weakness.     About  and 

und  tl^^rring  one  the  household,  if  it  can, 

like  a  wall,  securing  him  from  at- 

ing  him  from  temptation.     If  there 

m  ,^5B.£'white  flock  one  black  sheep,   let  the 

one  in  the  centre  and  hide  it  in 

vil  da^'ir'there  be  one  gone  astray,  let  love 

d  it,  an(iJ^^fL^>kanger  bar  the  door  on 


IS  ww^ajse  tea^^^anS^ompassionate  in  our 

leifiEVDf  disease,   we  should  be  gentle  and 

thoiiJ2rh^^'^^dl««iCi«-^nioving  temptation 


[446] 


^hen  the  malady  is  a  moral  one.     Inflexibly  in-  j(^ 
tolerant  of  sin,  we  may  be  on  the  watch  to  aid 
and  uplift  the  sinner. 

Returning  to  the  parable  of  the  prodigal  son, 
one  cannot  but  have  some  sympathy  with  the 
elder  brother,  who  came  in  from  the  harvest-field 
and  found  music  and  dancing,  his  graceless 
brother  basking  in  forgiveness,  clothed  in  the 
best  robe,  a  ring  on  his  finger,  and  shoes  on  his 
feet.  Long  years,  in  sun  and  shadow,  this  brother 
had  never  given  his  father  an  hour  of  anxiety. 
He  had  plodded  on  through  every  change  of 
weather,  in  ploughing  and  sowing  and  reaping, 
and  yet,  said  he,  morosely,  to  his  father,  "  Thou 
never  gavest  me  a  kid,  that  I  might  make  merry 
with  my  friends."  The  steady-going,  trust- 
worthy, faithful  children  of  a  house  are  some-  ^^ 
times  disposed  to  quarrel  with  the  fuss  made  over/^ 
a  repentant  and  returning  prodigal.  But  tl 
father's  answ^er  is  ever  the  same. 

"  Son,  thou  art  ever  with  me,  and  all  that* 
have  is  thine.  But  this  my  son  was  dead  and' 
ahve  again,  was  lost  and  is  found.' 

The  stay-at-home  brother  who^  h^t^no^memory 
of  past  excesses,  to  rise  before 

[447J 


/5      The  Little  Kingdom  of  Home 

in  the  night,  who  never  feels  the  poignant  thrust 
of  remorse  over  errors  that,  though  forgiven, 
ache  as  do  old  wounds,  who  never  enters  a 
gloom  that  blots  the  very  sun  in  mid-heaven,  has 
no  reason  to  envy  the  other.  Lost  purity  may  be 
forgiven,  but  the  knowledge  of  it  is  an  acute  tor- 
ment to  the  awakened  conscience.  Well  may 
homes  deal  gently  and  lovingly  with  those  prodi- 
gals, who,  from,  very  sorrow  and  self-disgust,  may 
plunge  again  into  the  abyss. 


[448] 


[449] 


^:m 


'HERE   are   gulfs   that   are   never   bridged^ 
wounds  that  are  never  healed;   wrongs  that 
are  never  repaired.     A  broken  home  cannot  be 
mended.     Heaven  help  those  who  break  it. 


[450] 


nr 


Of  Broken  Homes 

ILL  death  do  us  part,"  is  the  solemn 
■  note  that  strikes  a  minor  chord  in 
-*-  every  peal  of  wedding-bells.  The 
view  of  the  Roman  Church  that  marriage  vows 
are  sacramental  has  not  formally  been  adopted 
by  Protestantism,  yet  nevertheless  every  true 
marriage  should  be  regarded  as  a  consecration 
of  each  to  the  other  for  life. 

Notwithstanding  the  clamor  of  Ill-assorted 
pairs,  and  the  bruiting  of  their  troubles  in  the 
press,  the  prevalence  of  easy  divorce,  and  the 
lax  judicial  procedure  which  makes  marital 
separation  more  common  than  in  an  earlier  day. 
the  vast  majority  of  our  people  live  loyally  an! 
happily  together  from  the  wedding-day  onwarc 
In  different  States,  different  complaints  constitui 
a  ground  for  divorce,  abandonment,  failure 
a  husband  to  support  a  wife,  intemperance, 
cruelty,  incompatibility,  and  infidei^jj^ing  the 
usual  causes  urged.     In  some  ^fmSBrBm.  trii 

[45  >] 


■seems  sufficient  to  break  "  what  God  has  joined 
together."  In  some  ranks  of  society,  notably  in 
those  which  have  most  wealth  and  least  reason 
for  exertion,  luxury  and  ennui  produce  their 
natural  effect.  People  weary  of  one  another. 
A  little  friction,  a  little  unchecked  temper,  and 
incompatibility  is  pleaded.  Some  one  else,  in 
the  prevalent  laxness  which  in  some  circles 
allows  a  dangerous  freedom  to  married  people, 
proves  more  attractive  than  the  husband  or  wife, 
and,  by  a  few  passes  of  a  tolerant  law,  the  knot 
is  untied,  to  be  retied  immediately.  It  is  like 
the  children's  game  of  stage-coach,  this  frequent 
changing  of  partners  in  life's  great  game.  And 
it  is  to  be  noted  with  regret  that  familiarity  with 
this  condition  of  affairs  has  blunted  the  edge 
of  dislike  and  lulled  suspicion,  and  done  away 
with  aversion.  Time  was  that  divorced  people 
not  accepted  without  due  investigation  and 
Issurance  on  the  part  of  society  that  they 
[•e  the  injured,  and  not  the  transgressors.  A 
^e  lenient  judgment  in  New  England,  the 
and  the  West,  obtains  in  the  large 
)0utli,  the  divorced  still  lose  caste, 
be  much  more  respectable  to  bear 

[452] 


an  ill,  however  great,  than  to  escape  it  by  lega 
enactment,  once  people  are  married.  The  ex- 
ception is,  of  course,  infidelity,  but  even  this,  in 
many  instances,  is  borne  with  in  submissive 
patience  by  those  who  wish  no  stain  upon  the 
family  escutcheon,  and  who  cannot  endure  the 
thought  of  dragging  the  family  name  in  the  mire. 
While  divorce  has  become  so  frequent  as  to  be 
a  scandal,  it  has  not  yet  assumed  such  propor- 
tions as  to  justify  despair.  Still  every  village 
and  township  has  its  clustering  homes,  where 
parents  and  children  dwell  in  peaceful  unity. 
Men  and  women  lead  clean  and  wholesome  lives. 
Young  people  grow  up,  and  love,  as  evermore 
since  Eden,  woos  and  wins  the  mate.  The  city 
draws  to  itself  elements  that  have  in  them  the 
possibility  of  menace.  Up-country,  where  the 
apple-blossoms  blow  and  the  robins  sing,  th 
hearthstone  is  unprofaned  as  of  old.  The  h 
of  the  whole  countr}^  is  in  the  plain  living  an 
high  thinking,  the  virtue  and  the  thrift  and  S| 
denial  of  the  average  middle-class  people,  ^^•' 
regard  divorce  as  an  abomination,  and  exn^t' 
to  spend  their  lives  in  mutual  service.  Ethically, 
iA.mericans   condemn    ^^^cot^ri^i^S/lli^l^igS^iS^t 


'V. 


exists  as  a  tolerated  and  deprecated  sign  of  th« 
times,  but  it  has  not  tal<en  root  among  us,  and 
it  will  not,  until,  as  a  whole  people,  we  cease  to 
fear  God  and  to  keep  His  commandments.  Then, 
God  help  us,  will  come  the  deluge. 

The  saddest  consequence  of  the  broken  home 
is  the  effect  on  the  development  and  future  lives 
of  children.  Standing  bewildered,  they  look  at 
parents,  both  of  whom  they  love,  and  see  them 
relentlessly  at  feud.  One  cannot  expect  anything 
letter  than  the  thing  that  occurs,  the  hopeless 
lental  confusion  of  childhood  as  to  right  and 
Tong.  When  the  issues  involved  are  trivial, 
Ives  are  shadowed  for  the  most  cruelly 
)rice ;  when  they  are  of  really  great 
:e,  the  children,  who  cannot  comprehend 
I  happened,  are  to  the  same  degree  the  suf- 
from  the  fact  that  a  disrupted  home 
^e  to  those  traditions  of  stability 
idea  of  the  household,  chil- 
'\vays.  If  their  mother 
guiding  hand  and  the 
U  the  father  retain  their 
mow,  shrinkingly  and 
something   wrong   in 

[454] 


iheir  mother,  but  they  are  bereft  of  her  brood-^i|j 
ing,  her  gentle  care,  her  constant  presence.  They 
are  inevitably  neglected  during  the  most  impor- 
tant period  of  their  growing  lives.  If  sensitive, 
they  are  exposed  to  remark  from  their  compan- 
ions and  playmates,  and  they  feel  as  if  wherever 
they  go  they  are  objects  of  unpleasant  notoriety. 

Children  do  not  tell  all  they  think  and  feel, 
but  the  bitterness  of  childhood  is  the  harder  to 
endure,  because  it  is  pressed  out  of  their  natures 
at  the  time  when  joy  should  be  in  the  ascendent. 
If  the  opposite  effect  is  produced  by  a  broken 
home,  and  they  do  not  care,  and  receive  the  hints 
and  comments  of  those  about  them  without  dis- 
turbance, it  is  worse  rather  than  better.  Their 
standards  have  been  irretrievably  lowered. 

"  Shall   I  keep  on  praying  for  my   father  ?  ''.^^ 
asked  a  little  child,  in  whose  hearing  the  n^ 
deeds  of  the  father,  hers  no  longer,  had  been 
cussed.     Another  child,  allowed  at  regular  ii 
vals  to  visit  a  father  who  to  her  had  bet 
goodness,  and  to  whom  she  had  been  an 
had  fits  of  heart-breaking  grief  when  she  cai 
away  from  him.     Tlnink  of  tlrer.^^fexy^ty  of 
troducing  to  such  a  child  another^ather,  ^jj^le 

[455; 


The  Little  Kingdom  of  Home 


her  own  is  living,  yet  in  our  loose  fashion  of 
remarriage,  such  a  thing  is  possible.  To  rightly 
explain  and  interpret  the  condition  of  affairs  in 
which  people  rush  to  divorce  as  a  healing  balm 
for  conjugal  disappointments  and  depressions,  we 
must  go  back  to  first  principles.  Men  and  women 
who  marry  from  mercenary  motives,  or  for  any 
reason  of  convenience,  can  hardly  anticipate  that 
theirs  will  be  the  love  that  lasts.  To  choose  a 
girl  as  one's  life-companion  because  her  father 
is  the  owner  of  mines  or  millions,  is  to  buy  a 
slave  in  the  market-place,  not  to  court  a  wife 
who  will  fare  on  with  her  husband  through  ad- 
versity and  prosperity  alike.  To  accept  a  hus- 
band with  whom  one  has  danced  and  flirted 
through  a  season,  because  no  other  eligible  suitor 
has  presented  himself,  and  one  wants  the  eclat 
of  a  gay  wedding,  is  to  give  odds  to  an  unhappy 
tiny.  A  man  meets  and  bows  down  before 
^auty.  After  marriage  her  physical  charms 
Fe,  and  too  late  he  discovers  that  she  has  no 
mterbalancing  loveliness  of  mind  to  hold  his 
Both  men  and  women  often  enter  upon 
those  who,  after  months  of  court- 
Ily  strangers  to  them.    The  lovers 

[456] 


m 


have  loved  an  ideal.  When  it  stalks  around  on" 
feet  of  clay,  they  are  intensely  chagrined,  and 
their  love  takes  wings.  Lack  of  true  love  leads 
to  disloyalty  of  heart  and  act,  and  swiftly  on  that 
follows  divorce  and  a  ruined  home. 

Self-will,  rampant  and  overmastering,  is  an- 
other factor  in  the  problem.  Spoiled  children 
grow  up  and  marry.  They  are  spoiled  children 
still,  and,  foiled  in  having  their  own  way  in 
everything,  they  soon  drift  apart. 

The  idleness  of  a  fashionable  woman's  life, 
and  the  unrest  which  is  making  nomads  of  our 
most  luxurious  people,  are  also  to  blame.  The 
dissatisfied  American  wife  goes  to  Europe,  and 
remains  indefinitely.  She  feels  no  compunction 
in  residing  in  Paris  or  Vienna  or  Florence,  vear 
in  and  year  out,  while  her  husband  amasses  wealth 
over  here,  working  as  steadily  as  any  hod-car-^ 
rier.  Living  an  artificial  life,  having  slight 
preciation  of  the  hardships  and  drudgery  she 
never  encountered,  the  woman  who  is  a  devof 
of  pleasure  and  show  sees  little  of  her  husbaru 
though  ostensibly  she  stay  at  home.  They  occui 
separate  suites  of  rooms.  She  leaves  him,  so;  a 
matter    of    course,    th( 


touches  town  pavements,  and  while  he  grubs  ii 
his  office,  she  drifts  away  to  mountain  resort  or 
seashore,  and  spends  dehcious  days  with  other 
women  as  lazily  occupied  as  herself.  Idleness 
is  the  fruitful  mother  of  discord.  Jealousy,  steal- 
ing- as  a  panther  crouching  for  a  spring,  finds 
a  lurking-place  in  the  breast  of  the  neglected 
husband.  Gossip  sows  its  thistle-down  seeds  of 
trouble.  After  awhile,  in  due  sequence,  conies 
tjie  divorce,  and  nobody  wonders. 

Not  long  ago,  a  mother  and  her  married  daugh- 

|j:er  went  somewhere  in  the  West,  from  an  Eastern 

here  the  prescribed  length  of  time 

the  State's  jurisprudence,  and,  quite 

(shame,   and   as    if   it   were   the   natural 

do,   obtained  each  a  divorce  from  her 

Comment  is  needless.     When   such  a 

Jiappen,   and   the   town   of   which   all 

led  are  natives  and  lifelong  resi- 

iles   indulgently,   the   morals  of 

have  suffered  a  very  griev- 

if  it  can  ever  be  ob- 
toward  averting  from 
ch  menaces  its  honor. 

[458] 


As  things  are  at  present,  a  couple  may  be  at  on 
and  the  same  time  legally  married  in  one  State, 
and  divorced  in  another.  They  may  fancy  them- 
selves married  while  they  are  living  in  a  union 
stamped  as  illicit  just  across  the  border-line  of 
their  State.  A  man  may  find  himself  confronted 
in  a  drawing-room  by  his  former  wife,  now 
married  to  his  old  friend,  while  the  wife  at  his 
side  may  be  face  to  face  with  her  previous  hus- 
band, married  to  a  girl  who  used  to  play  with 
her  when  both  were  in  short  frocks.  The  whole 
state  of  things  is  indelicate,  indecorous,  and  un- 
speakably confusing;  it  stabs  truth  and  honesty, 
and  shames  our  country  before  the  world. 

Yet.  God  be  praised,  the  broken  homes,  as  com- 
pared with  the  homes  that  keep  their  integrity, 
are  few.  From  north  to  south,  from  east  t 
west,  by  river,  hill,  and  sea,  in  thrifty  farj 
lands,  and  on  wide  prairies,  in  every  State 
Territory,  and  among  all  sorts  and  condition^ 
men,  the  sanctity  of  the  home  is  revered, 
the  home  preserves  its  integrity.  From 
family,  the  oldest  organization  in  the  world, 
other  organizations  have  sprung.  The  familv 
saulted  is  an  attack  on  government,  on  established 


.4itj 


The  Little  Kingdom  of  Home 


scx:iety,  on  civilization.  The  family  uprooted 
means  anarchy.  The  family  defended  pledges 
the  well-being  of  the  nation. 

"  He  that  saveth  his  life  shall  lose  it."  No 
truer  word  was  ever  spoken.  Though  a  fleeting 
joy  may  come  to  those  who  seek  their  freedom 
from  a  bond  sacredly  and  voluntarily  accepted 
and  imposed,  the  aftermath  of  every  such  en- 
deavor is  a  ceaseless  regret.  There  is  no  room 
in  human  nature  for  serenity  except  where  liberty 
is  the  outgrowth  of  law.  Expediency  is  a  bridge 
with  a  loose  plank.  In  his  great  book,  "  Anna 
Karenina,"  Count  Tolstoi  has  terribly  painted  the 
result  of  self-pleasing  at  the  cost  of  wrong-doing. 
The  children  in  the  home  are  the  great  argu- 
ment against  divorce,  are  a  link  that  should  unite 
hearts  that  are  striving  to  break  the  tether  of 
marriage.  Together  the  two  have  watched  beside 
couch  where  the  little  one  has  been  ill.  Per- 
they  have  lost  a  child.  If  their  living  chil- 
li cannot  hold  them,  enable  them  to  bear  any 
sient  infelicity,  the  memory  of  the  little  lost 
should  be  a  spell  to  prevent  the  disaster  which, 
reck  their  home,  but  shadow  and 
rum  TUfieSiTWtH^Tje  future. 

[460] 


[46 1] 


NSTEAD  of  the  shapes  that  hid  us 
And  made  us  old  and  gray, 
Shall  our  better  selves  come  back  again 
[n  a  brightness  that  will  stay 
^hen  we  tread  the  heavenly  way. 


[462] 


The  Old  Folk  at  Home 


BLESSED  arc  the  children  who  have  a 
grandmother's  house  where  they  may  run 
to  and  fro  at  their  pleasure;  and  who 
have  a  grandfather,  whose  adoring  indulgence  is 
a  continual  amazement  to  his  own  sons,  who 
recall  the  discipline  of  their  early  years,  and  smile 
at  the  contrast. 

This  House  of  Peace  is,  it  may  be,  an  old  home- 
stead, which  opens  wide  its  doors  to  children  and 
children's  children  in  the  long  summer  vacations 
and  at  holiday  seasons.  There  is  a  brook  on  the 
farm,  foaming  over  stones,  crossed  by  narrow 
bridges  here  and  there,  bridges  that  sway  undei^ 
the  foot  with  a  sort  of  see-saw  reminiscence,  thi 
is  fascinating  to  adventurous  little  ones.  A  dee! 
hole,  how  deep  conjecture  fails  to  fathom,  allure 
the  boys  to  swim  and  take  perilous  dives;  the 
mothers  watching  with  thrills  of  admiration 
terror  from  the  willow-fringed  bankr-  Trout  lurk 
in  silent  shadowy  pools  on  the 

[463] 


father  and  Uncle  Jack  tell  big  stories  of  fisher- 
man's luck  in  the  past.  Andy  and  Jimmy  go  with 
Uncle  Jack  and  the  hired  man  to  learn  fisher- 
man's lore,  and  they  trot  barefooted  along  the 
meadow  path,  their  little  hearts  in  the  seventh 
heaven  of  childhood's  joy.  Forgotten  now  the 
drudgery  of  the  schoolroom,  the  crisp  sternness 
of  the  head-master,  the  strenuous  moods  of  their 
teachers,  and  the  impertinent  intrusion  on  their 
playtime  of  the  home  work,  that  keeps  home 
evenings  in  a  ferment,  and  baffles  parents  and 
children  alike  with  its  never-solved  puzzles  and 
its  perplexing  exercises  to  be  carried  in  on  ruled 
paper,  in  handwriting  so  neat  that  it  dazzles  the 
eyes  of  all  beholders.  At  grandmother's  house 
there  may  be  chores  for  small  boys,  such  as  bring- 
ing in  wood,  or  driving  home  the  cows,  or  going 
n  old  Bess  to  the  post-office,  and  little  girls  may 
the  chickens,  and  help  make  pies  and  patty- 
s,  but  it  is  all  fun,  and  frolic,  and  wholesome 
axation.  The  element  of  task-work  is  gone 
en  the  children  cross  that  threshold. 
Citv^;^i^(dlers  have  no  room  for  poetry  and 
my^ofi^^l^CJiey  are  packed  too  closely  in  their 
their  barrack-like  streets,  with  gas 

[464] 


"and  electricity  making  night  as  light  as  day.  It  ~ 
is  only  in  the  green,  still  country,  where  you 
take  your  bedroom  candlestick  in  your  hand  and 
traverse  a  broad  stair  and  a  long  passage  to  your 
room,  that  you  can  think  of  fairies,  gnomes,  and 
elves,  trolls  working  in  the  darkness,  and  ghosts 
slipping  quietly  around  the  churchyard,  where  the 
white  stones  glimmer  in  the  moonlight.  You 
can  see  the  churchyard  from  the  window  of  your 
room,  before  you  jump  into  bed  and  pull  the 
quilt  up  over  your  eyes.  One  moment  of  delicious 
fear,  and  lo!  it  is  morning,  and  a  cheery  voice 
from  the  kitchen  below  is  calling  you  to  hurry 
and  get  dressed,  and  come  to  breakfast. 
'Tis  only  in  the  country  that  — 


"  Up  the  airy  mountain, 

Down  the  rushy  glen, 
We  daren't  go  a-hunting 

For  fear  of  little  men. 
Wee  folk,  good  folk, 

Trooping  all  together, 
Green  jacket,  red  cap, 

And  white  owl's  feather, 


"Down  along  the  rocky  shore //^^ 
Some  make  their  home. 


V     ' 


They  live  on  crispy  pancakes 

Of  yellow  tide-foam 
Some  in  the  reeds  of 

The  black  mountain-lake, 
With  frogs  for  their  watch-dogs 

All  night  awake." 


■% 


'Tis  only  in  the  country  that  a  child  ever  under- 
stands what  Robert  Louis  Stevenson  heard  on 
windy  nights. 

"  Whenever  the  moon  and  stars  are  set, 
Whenever  the  wind  is  high, 
All  night  long  in  the  dark  and  wet 
A  man  aoes  riding  by. 

le  night  when  the  fires  are  out, 
does  he  gallop  and  gallop  about  ? 

ever  the  trees  are  crying  aloud 
ships  are  tossed  at  sea, 
e  highway,  low  and  loud, 
a"5allop,  goes  he ; 
a  gallop,  he  goes,  and  then 
he  come&'bSdc^^  gallop  again." 

the  ^fei'iagi native  child,  who 
ul,  enchanted  weeks  in 
ts  in  the  country. 

[466] 


The  parlor,  not  a  thoroughfare  hke  a  city 
drawing-room,  but  a  sacred  shut-up  place,  as 
hallowed  as  a  church,  is  scented  with  potpourri. 
One  might  step  in  there  to  say  his  prayers.  In 
fact,  one  remembers  being  up  very  early  one 
morning,  and  seeing  the  door  of  this  best  room 
ajar,  peeping  in,  and  slipping  very  softly  away, 
for  there  was  grandfather  on  his  knees  beside  the 
settee,  talking  in  a  low,  reverent  voice  with  the 
friend  whom  he  had  walked  with,  like  Enoch,  all 
his  days. 

Grandmother's  room  was  on  the  same  floor 
with  the  kitchen  and  buttery,  the  dining-room 
and  sitting-room,  and  the  parlor  was  on  the  other 
side  of  the  wide  hall,  itself  a  living-room.  A 
great  map  of  the  United  States  hung  in  the  hall, 
and  there  was  a  table  here,  where  coats  and  hats  ^fe, 
were  left,  and  where  Uncle  Jack  wrote  his  letters^ 
You  could  do  anything  you  liked  at  that  tabl( 
and  when  grandmother  set  up  her  quilting-frame 
there  was  plenty  of  room  for  them  in  the  hall,  ar 
for  you  as  well. 

The    supply    of   cookies    and    gingersnaps    ii 
grandmother's    house    was    inexha«stiblf.      The 
jars  were  always  replenished,  'iike  the  wido\ 


*t^»-7  rv^ 


[467] 


•barrel  of  meal  and  cruse  of  oil  in  the  Bible.  You 
did  not  have  to  ask,  the  rule  was  help  yourself. 
Grandmother  and  grandfather  held  that  good 
children  ought  to  have  what  they  wanted,  and 
that  happy  children  were  generally  good. 

It  is  a  blessed  thing  for  the  old  folk  when  they 
are  able  to  stay  in  their  home  until  the  end.  They 
are  never  quite  as  well  adjusted  in  other  homes, 
even  their  children's,  as  in  their  own.  When 
one  or  the  other  is  taken,  sons  and  daughters 
often  insist  that  the  widowed  one  must  give  up 
the  home,  and  spend  the  remainder  of  the  so- 
journ on  earth  with  them.  In  case  of  very  narrow 
means,  or  very  great  feebleness,  or  the  on-creep- 
ing of  senile  maladies,  this  may  be  necessary,  but, 
if  there  is  any  one  in  the  family  connection  who 
can  go  and  stay  with  the  survivor,  it  is  better 
for  either  to  remain  in  the  familiar  place  with  the 
iliar  associations.  An  aged  woman  is  never 
^ly  satisfied  if  at  threescore  and  ten  she  must 
56  to  be  the  mistress  of  her  home,  and  become 
inmate  of  her  daughter's  family.  She  has  a 
It  cannot  be,  in  completeness 
a  home.  The  widow,  grown 
ifi  any  measure  of  health  and  vigor, 

[468] 


if  she  have  any  income  at  all,  is  wise  to  stay  in 
her  own  househokl,  and  endure  her  own  sad  lot, 
among  her  old  neighlx)rs  who  can  run  in,  her 
friends  and  kindred,  and  the  peculiar  environment 
to  which  she  is  accustomed. 

If  old  folk  condescend  to  dwell  with  their  chil- 
dren, they  should  he  treated  with  all  considera- 
tion and  all  honor,  as  if  their  presence  were  a 
privilege.  So  far  as  practicable,  they  should  have 
the  best  in  the  house,  and  have  their  own  things 
about  them.  In  a  home  I  know,  the  aged  mother 
sits  at  her  son's  right  hand  at  the  table,  has  her 
special  chair  which  no  one  takes,  and  her  com- 
forts are  jealously  looked  after  by  every  one. 
Great  care  is  taken  that  she  shall  have,  through 
dimming  sight,  no  inconvenience  that  younger 
eyes  can  relieve,  and  never  be  excluded  from  the 
conversation  through  defective  hearing  while 
grandchild  is  near  to  repeat  w-hat  she  has  miss 
yet  would  like  to  be  told.  Her  grandchildren^ 
from  the  little  ones  to  the  boy  and  girl  com, 
home  from  Princeton  and  Vassar,  find  her  roo 
refuge,  and  she  is  the  comfort  of  the  little  mafci 
who  has  broken  her  doll,  as  well  as  the  couns^or 

'/^^^ 


of  the  middle-aged  son  and  the  dearest  friend=^ 
of  her  son's  wife. 

This  is  the  ideal,  a  state  of  affairs  than  which 
nothing  can  be  loveHer,  and  the  grandmother  is 
here  a  benediction. 

Old  people  are  not  invariably  like  this  rare 
woman,  whose  eighty  winters  have  left  her  heart 
young,  and  her  brain  unimpaired,  her  judgment 
unerring,  and  her  temper  mellow.  Some  old 
)lk  are  difficult  and  contrary,  perverse,  crabbed, 
fnd  a  daily  trial.  We  have  seen  such.  Life  has 
lealt  hardly  with  them.  It  may  be  that  in  youth 
ley  thought  chiefly  of  themselves,  and  that  their 
arrow  channels,  with  few  broadening 
Age  has  crystallized  and  fossilized 
cies  of  youth.  They  are  captious  and 
i€  and  unlovely.  In  those  mournful 
a  real  home,  asylums  for  aged  and 
,n,  although  every  needed  material 
s  lavishly  provided,  the  inmates  are 
disagw^^^^-^nd  irritable  that  the 
laB^^^RQggers  are  fairly  at  their 
oncile  th^irreconcilable.  Homes 
^,capital^H,  though  they  afford 
sti^ys  of  unkind  fortune, 

[470] 


are  never  really  homes.     Something  is  missing- 
something-  gracious,   sweet,   and  appealing,   that 
appertains    to    the    humblest    home    where    love 
claims  tribute  from  those  of  kindred  blood. 

Since  every  aged  father  or  mother  was  once 
young,  and  every  surviving  relative  once  took 
a  hand  in  raising  the  succeeding  generation,  it 
would  seem  that  we  might  have  more  patience 
than  we  have  with  the  vagaries  of  those  who 
are  bowed  beneath  a  weight  of  infirmity.  Age 
grows  restless.  Often  the  restlessness  increases 
because  tactless  and  imperious  younger  people 
do  not  comprehend  that  it  is  mistaken  kindness 
which  deprives  the  old  of  something  to  do,  some- 
thing they  have  always  done,  and  prefer  to  keep 
on  doing. 

A  dear  friend  of  mine,  who  passed  away  from,,^^^j|^ 
earth  to  put  on  immortality  when  she  was  ninety- 
one  years  old,  had  a  passion  for  the  wash- 
She  was  in  her  element  when  her  elbows 
in  the  suds.     She  loved  to  bleach  her  linens^ 
the  grass,  to  "  do  up  "  flannels,  an  art  in  wh^^ 
she  excelled. 

"  We   are   so   mortified," 
**  that  the  neighbors  see  grandf 

[471] 


The  Little  Kingdom  of  Home 


hard  work.  We  cannot  prevent  it,  and  when  we 
interfere,  it  makes  her  ill,  and  she  takes  to  her 
bed,  or  worse,  gets  one  of  her  wandering  fits, 
and  goes  off  for  days,  not  telling  us  where  she 
is  going." 

There  was  no  need  for  humiliation,  nor  apol- 
ogy. The  sensible  way  was  to  let  the  old  lady 
amuse  herself  as  she  preferred.  Knitting,  the 
resource  of  so  many,  was  not  to  her  taste.  She 
had  never  cared  for  sewing,  mending,  or  seden- 
tary occupations.  Her  energy  led  her  to  cope  with 
harder  enterprises,  and  in  her  sturdy  girlhood, 
women  had  tossed  ofif  their  own  work  as  if  it 
were  feather-light.  She  was  miserable  if  con- 
demned to  sitting  still,  her  hands  in  her  lap,  like 
a  fine  lady. 

Won't  you  let  me  come  and  live  with  you?  " 
said  a  woman  nearing  eighty.     "  I  am  so  out  of 
^rpface  at  John's  among  those  popinjays  and  but- 
ies." 

Why,  dear  Mrs.  C ,  they  are  not  popin- 

s  and  butterflies,  those  people  who  go  to  John's, 
they  love  you,  for  I've  heard  them  say  so. 
Teht>i^dfe  men  and  fair  women,  dear;  what 
"i^^^gainst  them  ?  " 

1^        [472] 


I  don't  like  to  be  where  people  wear  their 
best  clothes  so  commonlike,  and  dress  for  dinner 
as  if  they  were  going  to  a  party.  It  vexes  me. 
I  was  brought  up  to  keep  my  best  gown  for 
weddings  and  funerals.  John's  wife  wants  me 
to  dress  up  in  it  nearly  every  afternoon." 

Poor  old  friend!  Before  she  was  ready  to 
come  and  make  me  the  long  visit  on  which  we 
compromised,  a  messenger  from  the  King  called 
her  very  gently,  one  wintry  morning  in  the  early 
dawn,  and  she  went  to  put  on  garments  sucli  as 
the  saints  wear,  raiment  white  and  glistening,  in 
her  Father's  house. 

Elderly  people  should  be  permitted  to  have 
their  own  way.  They  ought  to  be  treated  with 
deference;  they  ought  not  to  be  annoyed  by  ill- 
timed  and  intrusive  attentions  that  accentuate 
and  emphasize  their  lessening  powers.  Th( 
reason  why  they  are  quick  to  resent  and  declij 
assistance  is  that  they  instinctively  fight  againsf 
the  weakness  that  challenges  them  from  the 
tance,  and  they  hate  to  feel  that  they  are  grac 
ally  being  pushed  to  the  rear  when  they 
always  been  in  the  van. 

To  some  of  our  dear-Old  fc 

[473] 


gentle  summer  of  St.  Martin  when  they  live 
mostly  in  the  past.  Incidents  and  events  of  the 
moment  do  not  deeply  impress  them,  they  are 
back  in  their  morning  time.  Second  childhood 
we  call  it,  wondering  at  the  oblivion  which,  like 
a  thin  veil,  has  fallen  between  them  and  what- 
ever can  hurt  and  annoy.  If  we  are  tenderly 
loving  we  never  lose  patience  over  their  mistakes, 
their  lapses  of  memory,  their  heedlessness  of  what 
Oj^  going  on  about  them  now.  They  are  only 
~  back  with  the  children  in  the  dear  and  peaceful 


dinna  chide  the  mither ! 
Ye  may  na  hae  her  lang  ; 
er  voice,  abune  your  baby  rest, 
Sae  saftly  crooned  the  sang ; 
She  thocht  ye  ne'er  a  burden, 
She  greeted  ye  wi'  joy, 

art  an'  hand  in  carin'  ye, 
n'  still  their  dear  employ. 

^*^s  cunnin', 
It's  tremblin'  now  and  slow, 
ut  her  he^t  is  l^  an'  lovin', 
\s  it  was  lang  ago ! 

ugh  her  strength  may  witherj 
faint  her  pulses  beat. 


[474] 


The  Old  Folk  at  Home 


Nane  will  be  like  the  mither, 
Sae  steadfast,  true,  an'  sweet  1 

Ye  maun  revere  the  mither, 

Feeble  an'  auld  an'  gray ; 
The  shinin'  ones  are  helpin'  her 

Adoon  her  evenin'  way  ! 
Her  bairns  wha  wait  her  yonder, 

Her  gude  mon  gone  before  ; 
She  wearies  —  can  ye  wonder?  — 

To  win  to  that  braw  shore ! 

Ah  !  dinna  chide  the  mither! 

O  lip,  be  slow  to  say 
A  word  to  vex  the  gentle  heart 

Wha  watched  your  childhood's  day ; 
Ay,  rin  to  heed  the  tender  voice 

Wha  crooned  the  cradle  sang, 
An'  dinna  chide  the  mither,  sin' 

Ye  may  na  hae  her  lang. 


^ 


Into  that  pleasant  land  of  Lethe,  no  one  want^ 
to  drift  too  soon.     The  way  to  keep  young, ;^^ 
twofold.     So  far  as  one  may,  one  should  be  ^fc-' ; 
rounded  by  young  people,  and  remain  intere^eov 
in  their  pursuits.     Mental  and  bodily  powers  -fail 
fastest   when   unused.     Women   and   men,   wlit> 
ignore  the  ravages  of  time,  and  keep^  straight  o| 
in  their  accustomed  duties,  mayvdie^>^i^»eii 

[475]  :^ 


9 


I 


but  they   will  have  no  dreary  interval  first   of^ 
being  laid  aside. 

A  man,  eighty-seven  years  old,  sits  at  his  desk 
in  a  certain  publishing  house,  bringing  to  bear 
on  the  day's  work  the  trained  powers  of  a  life- 
time. I  saw  him  not  long  ago ;  noted  that  there 
was  no  failure  of  intellect,  that  the  body  was 
as  yet  the  loyal  servant  of  the  brain.  A  life 
of  health,  of  clean  living,  of  sound  common 
sense  and  Christian  faith  has  brought  ripeness 
in  old  age,  but  not  infirmity. 

A  woman,  past  her  ninetieth  year,  dwells  in 
the  mansion  to  which  she  came,  a  bride  in  her 
golden  youth.  She  goes  about  the  house  as  she 
chooses,  reads,  receives  her  friends,  attends 
church  in  good  weather.  On  Sundays,  in  the 
twilight,  her  children  and  grandchildren  assemble 
in  her  home,  as  their  custom  has  been,  without 
interruption,  for  many  consecutive  years,  and 
they  have  family  prayers  around  the  mother. 
< .  fit  is  often  noted  that  people  keep  on  in  apparent 

'ength  a  long  time,  and  then,  under  a  sudden 

k,  or  the  weight  of  a  great  sorrow,  they  lose 

qC  g^l^C^itality  has  few  reserves  to  draw 

upona  dEi^^S^sical  capital  is  almost  exhausted 

[476] 


On  the  whole,  the  old  folk  are  happiest  who  live 
on  to  the  end,  and  then,  in  a  moment,  fall  on 
sleep,  and  are  at  home  with  God. 

In  Bunyan's  incomparable  story  of  "  Christiana 
and  Her  Children,"  we  read  how,  at  the  last,  the 
pilgrims   entered    a    Beulah    land. 

"  In  this  place  the  children  of  the  town  would 
go  into  the  king's  gardens,  and  gather  nosegays 
for  the  pilgrims,  and  bring  them  to  them  with 
much  affection.  Here,  also,  grew  camphire,  with 
spikenard  and  saffron,  calamus  and  cinnamon, 
with  all  the  trees  of  frankincense,  myrrh,  and 
aloes,  with  all  chief  spices.  With  these  the  pil- 
grims' chambers  were  perfumed  while  they  stayed 
here;  and  with  these  were  their  bodies  anointed, 
to  prepare  them  to  go  over  the  river,  when  the 
time  appointed  was  come 

"  Now,  while  they  lay  here,  and  waited  for  tK 
good  hour,  there  was  a  noise  in  the  town  th 
there  was  a  post  come  from  the  Celestial  Ci 
with  matter  of  great  importance  to  one  Chris, 
tiana,  the  wife  of  Christian,  the  pilgrim.     So 
quiry  was  made  for  her. 


^^  with  a  letter.     The  contents  were 


"  '  Hail,  good  woman ;  I  bring  thee  tidings  that 
the  Master  calleth  for  thee,  and  expecteth  that 
thou  shouldst  stand  in  his  presence  in  clothes  of 
immortality  within  these  ten  days.' 

"  When  he  had  read  this  letter  to  her,  he  gave 
therewith  a  sure  token  that  he  was  a  true 
>senger,  and  was  come  to  bid  her  make  haste 
be  gone.     The  token  was  an  arrow  with  the 
it   sharpened   with   love,    let   easily    into  her 
irt,  whichJlTy  degrees,  wrought  so  effectually 
!th  her^^^t  at  the  time  appointed  she  must 
gone. 

et^hristiana  saw  that  her  time  was  come, 
tharsn^  was  the  first  of  this  company  to  go 
verr  she  called -^for  Mr.  Great-Heart,  her  guide, 
and  told  him  how  matters  were.  So  he  told  her 
he  was  heartily  gl^^^^^j^news,  and  could  have 
been  glad  had  the'^^jV^t'^E^^  for  him.  Then  she 
bid  him  that  he  should  giv^^dvice  how  all  things 
preparedj^iS^-her  journey.  So  he  told 
^— ^ 

[478] 


.her,  saying,  '  Thus  and  thus  it  must  be,  and  we  ^r^ 
that  survive  will  accompany  you  to  the  riverside.' 

"  Then  she  called  for  her  children,  and  gave 
them  her  blessing,  and  told  them  that  she  had 
read  with  comfort  the  mark  that  was  set  in  their 
foreheads,  and  was  glad  to  see  them  with  her 
there,  and  that  they  had  kept  their  garments  so 
white.  Lastly,  she  bequeathed  to  the  poor  that 
little  she  had,  and  commanded  her  sons  and 
daughters  to  be  ready  against  the  messenger 
who  should  come  for  them. 

"  Now  the  day  drew  on  that  Christiana  must 
be  gone.     So  the  road  was  full  of  people  to  see 
her  take  her  journey.     But  behold,  all  the  banks 
beyond  the  river  were  full  of  horses  and  char- 
iots, which  were  come  down  from  above  to  ac- 
company her  to  the  city  gate.    So  she  came  forth, 
and  entered  the  river,  with  a  beckon  of  farewej 
to  those  who  followed  her.     The  last  words  thi 
she  was  heard  to  say  were,  '  I  come,  Lord, 
be  with  thee  and  bless  thee !  '     So  her  childrj 
and   friends  returned   to  their  places,   for  the 
that  waited  for  Christiana  had  carried  her  out 
of  their  sight.     So  she  went  an^^e^e<;U  ^""^  ^^' 
tered  in  at  the  gate  with  all 

[479J 


joy  that  her  husband,  Christian,  had  entered 
before  her.  At  her  departure,  the  children  wept. 
But  Mr.  Great-Heart  and  Mr.  VaHant  played 
upon  the  well-tuned  cymbal  and  harp  for  joy. 
So  all  departed  to  their  respective  places." 

Home  regnant  here  on  earth,  gathering  to 
itself  the  fondest  associations,  melting  at  last  into 
that  home  in  heaven  where  they  go  no  more  out 
forever.  Dearest  word  in  our  language,  sweetest 
haven  on  earth,  goal  of  the  wayfarer,  cheer  of 
the  desolate,  home  draws  us  with  the  cords  of 
love.  No  malady  is  harder  to  bear  than  home- 
sickness. It  saps  the  strength  of  men  in  their 
prime.  It  is  a  paralysis  of  will,  a  despair  in 
the  midst  of  activity. 

Through  every  vicissitude  the  thought  of  home 

is  an   inspiration,   giving  courage   to   the   faint. 

we  not  prize,  as  the  land's  noblest  heritage, 

les   built   on   rectitude,    shielded   by   fidelity, 

recrated  by  prayer,  and  ensphered  by  love  ? 


[480] 


U  Envoi 


FARTHER  back  than  our  great-great-grand- 
parents, our  ancestors  mean  little  to  us  ex- 
cept as  shadowy  figures  growing  ever  more 
remote.  The  several  tides  that  mingle  in  our 
blood,  are  traceable  in  the  family  genealogy,  and 
we  are  unspeakably  grateful  if  ours  is  a  line  that 
stain  has  never  tarnished,  and  that  has  done  yeo- 
man service  in  God's  world,  during  the  centuries. 
But  as  the  generations  recede,  as  the  waves  that 
breaking  on  the  shore,  roll  back  again  and  are 
merged  in  the  vastness  of  the  sea,  we  know  little  of 
those  who  went  before  us.  Many  homes  meet  in 
our  single  home.  No  past  that  was  worth  t\ 
name  ever  dies.  The  past  is  renewed  in  the  pres^ 
ent.  The  future  will  repeat  the  present  when  it  h 
become  the  past.  In  days  yet  to  be,  the  childi 
of  our  children  will  read  the  story  of  our  times 
and  point  with  pride  to  some  relic,  a  portrait^a 
piece  of  furniture,  a  curi^^  cup,  o^/yasi 
clock  ticking  serenely 


The  Little  Kingdom  of  Hojue 


legacy  from  ourselves.  We  cannot  realize  that  in  J^j^ 
that  day  we  shall  be  to  them  as  our  progenitors 
are  to  us.  Just  as  the  girl  in  her  teens  cannot 
comprehend  the  wistfulness  with  which  her  grand- 
mother regards  her,  nor  measure  the  yearning  in 
the  tone  in  which  she  says,  "  I,  too,  was  once  like 
you,  dear,  as  gay,  as  blooming,  as  full  of  hope;  " 
just  as  the  photographs  in  the  old  family  album, 
taken  fifty  years  ago,  seem  strangely  unreal  now, 
shall  we  be  to  those  who  will  come  after  we 
\  gone. 

But  their  homes  will  be  the  offspring  of  ours, 

I  the  flower  unfolds  from  the  bud.    In  successive 

id    undying^efflorescence,    homes    come    forth 

Every  home,  as  from  a  cell,  sends 

rable  other  homes,  and  the  homes  of 

y  will  be  multiplied  a  million-fold  in 

11  unborn.    The  currents  of  the  world 

er,  and  a  composite  people,  elimi- 

weakness     and     assimilating     the 

es,     shall    yet     dwell, 

iSrepublican  America. 

"    a  day,  which  we  may 

ight  of  eternity,  when, 

re  on  earth,  — 


"  No  one  shall  work  for  money, 
And  no  one  shall  work  for  fame, 
But  each  for  the  joy  of  the  working." 


God  Speed  that  coming  da^I 


[483] 


^,.. 


L  006  131    109  8 


UC  SOUTHERN  REGIOMAL  LIBRARY  FACILITY 
iliiiiiii 


AA    000  425  630 


